Metamorphosis: Seven Sins
by Cottonmouth25
Summary: Humans and monsters are no longer warring. Hunters have been replaced with researchers. But peace is still a long way off, as seven deadly spirits awaken and hatch a truly apocalyptic plan of world domination. And for reasons unknown, monsters are becoming human... will they metamorphose into heroes next? Takes place after the events of the "Monster Hunter Destiny" trilogy.
1. Callous Comeback

_**Chapter 1 – Callous Comeback**_

 **Salutations, greetings, and many great hellos! Cottonmouth25 is back with another awesome fanfic to add to the Monster Hunter archives. This story acts as a replacement for my attempted horror story, "Metamorphosis", which I have deleted.**

 **Important** **! This story takes place years after the events of my "Monster Hunter Destiny" trilogy. Make sure to read those fanfics before you read this one – it'll help you understand some of the backstory!**

 **I do not own Monster Hunter or anything associated with it.**

 **So with that said and done, let's get begin!**

-.-.-.-.-.

 **Five Years from the Present**

A freak storm was pummeling the western coastline of the Deserted Island, formerly known as Moga Island. Alas, such days were long past, as the fishing community of Moga Village had been destroyed in a similar storm almost forty years ago. Not since that day had such a sudden storm wreaked havoc on the island.

In the eye of the storm – way, way out to sea, where the mountainous peaks of the island were only barely visible on the horizon – something stirred. Something ancient, long-forgotten, and, in the best interests of the known world, better off unconscious.

 _Tired… so tired… need more rest…_

The being almost wanted to stay there and never wake up. He never had been the most energetic of people. He was so comfortable lying there on the ocean floor, as he had been for the past thousand-and-nine-hundred-fifty years. In fact, it had been so long since he was last awake that his body had actually turned to stone. Perhaps he deserved it, after what he had done. Condemned to sleep for so long that rock grew over his body – a very ironic way to go if you asked him.

Being asleep, unaware of the cruel world around him, was bliss. This in mind, he began to sink back into slumber.

Then the awful memories came back, the memories of what had happened to his soul as he slept – trapped in Hell, forced to lay in a snake pit with only a hungry Najarala for company. A place where moving a muscle would get you bitten. Again, ironic.

 _Need more rest… but elsewhere. If I fall asleep here, I'll be back in eternal prison with that miserable serpent._

Under the tumultuous waves, in a cave so deep beneath the surface that light only barely penetrated the darkness, the statue shuddered and began to crack. As the being felt awareness and strength return to him, the storm up above grew worse. The harder he struggled against his prison, the more the currents swirled.

The moment his bonds exploded into dust, a nimbus of electricity scoured the sky far above, creating enough thunder and enough lightning that the being could hear and see it even from the ocean floor.

And then, everything became calm again. There wasn't even the slightest breeze to ripple the water's surface as the being swam upwards to take his first breath of air in centuries.

 _That feels good_ , he thought, as his head poked above the surface. He smiled lazily. _Now time to find the others. Ruling the world is too much work for one person, after all._

The one known as Ace, Spirit of Sloth, only needed the slightest application of his powers to create a current that pushed him toward Deserted Island.

-.-.-.-.-.

Elsewhere, the great volcano rumbled and shook as if it could barely keep itself together. It had been a long time since its last eruption, when its sole inhabitant had first been imprisoned. Lava had been boiling inside of it for almost two millennia. It needed to let it out.

 _Trapped… still trapped… don't like it…_

Now that awareness was returning to her, though, the volcano was starting to feel like it couldn't hold on to its pent-up fury. It had to let it all out, or else it may just explode. The one it was keeping imprisoned had a volatile temper, and it was infectious.

 _Don't like being trapped… don't like it… hate it… HATE IT!_

There was a muffled *boom* that came from within the fiery mountain, and massive clouds of smoke shot into the air. The atmosphere was darkening ominously, appropriate for what was about to happen. And still, the pressure within the volcano built up until, indeed, it could hold on to its anger no longer.

 _I HATE IT! LET ME OUT! I MUST RELEASE MY RAGE! I HATE IT!_

* _ **CRA-KA-BOOOOOOOOOM!**_ *

Fire and brimstone erupted from the volcano's mouth. Lava rushed forth, drenching the sides of the mountain in red-hot rivers of death. Immense boulders of hardened magma rained down on the land, bringing nothing but utter devastation that spread for miles around.

The largest boulder hit the ground in the middle of an ashy, primordial forest near the volcano's slope, hissing loudly as it was quickly cooled by the air around it. Then, the numerous cracks in its surface shone bright yellow, like it held tremendous energy inside of it that simply couldn't be contained.

It exploded with a deafening bang.

From the middle of the wreckage, the being let out a primal growl and stalked forward. It was only after her anger had settled a few seconds later when she realized that she was supposed to walk on two legs. She did so, and surveyed her surroundings with one good eye. The other was milky white, and had a hideous scar slashing across it.

"Pathetic vermin-infested world," she spat viciously. "It needs to be fixed… the ground torn asunder… the trees ripped apart… the… the living things eviscerated…"

Her eye flickering red with madness, and mouth foaming with acid saliva, the being stumbled forward. The sheer amount of fury she was just barely keeping in check clouded her vision, making it difficult to walk. Her muscles constantly twitched with suppressed rage, adding to her instability.

But she would make it. Oh, she would make it. And when she did, well…

"Life is good," Ira, Spirit of Wrath, said with a twisted grin. "But for everything else, the alternative is better."

-.-.-.-.-.

Near the very same volcano from which the second spirit had been unleashed, there was a place called the Sacred Land. The most hostile part of the already-hostile habitat, no monster could survive there.

Part of the reason why it served as a prison for another spirit – after all, if nothing could survive, nothing could try to release him.

At the bottom of the Sacred Land's largest lava pool, where the immense lava falls plunged over the cliff and filled it to the brim with scalding hot, liquid rock, the being awoke abruptly in response to the volcano's eruption. The lava falls were constant and their continuous roar was soothing. But the great burst of rock and fire that was launched from the great mountain was a disturbance. A disturbance of unchecked power.

 _Power… that is what I want… all mine… so much of it… mine for the taking…_

Feeling strength trickling back into his body, he clawed upward through the lava, slowly rising against the push of the falls that endlessly poured viscous liquid on top of his prison. He could tell that his soul had returned to its vessel, granting him all that had once been his. He could move his limbs, he could rise up out of the lava, he could feel the lava agonizingly searing his skin.

But even though his body was screaming in pain, the being smiled. He had forgotten what it was like to feel things – and no, his time in purgatory didn't count, where his soul had had molten gold forced down its throat. _That_ had been painful, although deliciously ironic.

No, this lava bath was nothing to him. Being able to truly feel pain invigorated him, telling him that he was alive once more. He swam faster, and broke the surface, sucking in a deep, glorious breath.

 _Breath… I'm alive… I have power… but I crave more… oh, so much more…_

He crawled out of the lava pool and staggered to his feet, almost unable to stand. But there was immense power to be taken from this world, and that was what motivated him. It was in the air he breathed, in the heat of the stone under his feet, and every second he spend standing there was like he was bathing in gold.

Avari, Spirit of Greed, smirked as his senses drank in his surroundings. Gold… power… the very world itself… all of it would soon be his.

-.-.-.-.-.

The storm near the Deserted Island had moved on to the landmass itself. The worst of it was currently hammering the lush forest region known as the Misty Peaks. A Zinogre turned its head toward the black sky and howled, feeling the intense electrical energy crackling inside the clouds.

High on the tallest peak, only known as the Great Mountain, the clouds swirled about each other, creating a black hole in the middle not unlike the eye of a hurricane. Lightning flashed from inside the eye and crackled along the bottom of the clouds, their skeletal forks branching out like a deadly web. Occasionally, a faint yet intense glow would fade into and out of existence, coming from the very heart of the storm.

 _So much energy… it feels so good… more…_

Just underneath the barren, windswept surface of the plateau that served as the peak of the Great Mountain, the earth shifted as the being fought her way to freedom. Her first few seconds of awareness were awful. Being underground was torture for someone who enjoyed the sky. Her sensitive skin needed to be in the open air.

Her pain turned to annoyance, and her annoyance fueled her powers. An immense, tornadic blast of Wind magic tore the ground to shreds, sending the being flying high above the Great Mountain. She let out a sigh as she felt the rain and wind caress her, filling her lungs with moist, life-giving air. Another application of her powers created a gentle downdraft that allowed her to float down back onto solid earth.

 _The wind… the rain… the elements are there to pleasure me…_

After almost two thousand years of being imprisoned in Hell, with no physical sensation to speak of except that of an inferno devouring every inch of her skin, she had forgotten how much she missed this world. Every new smell, sound, sight… all of it was pleasing, and she lived for pleasure. The very act of standing still in this terrible storm filled her with ecstasy.

 _More pleasure… MORE…_

From her high vantage point, the being's eyes lit up upon seeing a small village in the distance. A deadly smirk flitted across her face. Destruction would please her. It would please her very much indeed.

As she jumped off the mountain and flew toward the doomed settlement, the spine-tingling cackle of Luxi, Spirit of Lust, blended in perfectly with the howl of the winds.

-.-.-.-.-.

There was no wind. No light. No sound. Absolutely no environmental stimulus for the senses to feed off of, except for the bitter cold that strangled the Tundra in its deathly embrace and never let go. And of course, the dread. Any living thing that wandered in here would slowly grow more and more terrified, until it fled in blind terror.

There were many caves in the Tundra that offered a place for life to thrive. This was not one of them.

Inside this darkest of chambers, a biting chill suddenly breezed through. This was no mere wind, though – it was the power of an ancient horror about to awaken for the first time in many hundreds of years.

 _A world that should have belonged to me… I can still take it by force… there's still a chance… I'll make this world pay for denying me what is rightfully mine…_

Fueled by the being's jealousy and spite, the temperature plunged, and the 'wind' began to swirl like a tornado. Ice formed on the walls and ceiling of the cave, and still the temperature refused to stop falling. If there had been any creature in this chamber, it would have frozen solid in little more than an instant.

One would think that the icy stalactite that happened to be hanging in the center of the storm would thicken, gaining an extra layer of ice to further imprison the being inside of it. However, it did the opposite – it weakened, the intense cold causing cracks to zigzag across its length.

With only the barest shrug, the being shattered her frozen prison and painfully landed on the hard ground below. Free once more. She should have been at least satisfied by that, if not outright happy.

But she wasn't satisfied. She was extremely angry. Anyone _else_ wouldn't have been hurt from such a short fall. Anyone _else_ would have landed on their feet. Why hadn't _she_? Why was this disgusting world out to get _her_? Why was pain always inflicted on _her_ , and nobody else?

Calmly, the being stalked in the direction of the cave mouth, ice forming underfoot with every step. Her calmness was a guise, though – it was her spite that flowed out of her and froze the ground, her spite that gave her eyes a glare so powerful that her eyes glowed in the darkness.

"Ssssoon…" she spoke in a high-pitched whisper. "Ssssoon I will be the fortunate one… and everything and everyone that made me ssssuffer will be the missssfortunate."

The world owed Invi, Spirit of Envy. And she would make it pay dearly.

-.-.-.-.-.

There was a reason the enormous ocean of sand that covered a good portion of the continent was called "the Great Desert". There was literally nothing but sand for as far as the eye could see, unless you counted the humans crossing it in their sandships, and the vast elder dragons that hunted them down.

In a much different way from the ice cave that had spawned the Spirit of Envy, there was no real sensation, apart from the midday heat that turned the sand hot enough to fry eggs on it. The sun beat mercilessly down on the endless sea, smothering everything that would have otherwise existed without it. No sounds, no scents, no sights.

Until the sand in one particular spot started to shift.

 _FOOD!_ That was what the awakening spirit's first conscious thought was. _Haven't eaten in so long… I didn't actually need to eat during my imprisonment, but now I'm alive again, and I want to EAT!_

It hadn't been bad in Hell. His cell had had nothing for him to satiate his hunger with except for live, rather disgusting animals. Admittedly, toads and rats and the like weren't bad once you got used to them, but it was awfully boring. Now that his soul had returned to his stone-encrusted body, though, this was his chance to incorporate a bit of variety into his diet!

The sand started to sink, creating a huge pit that widened with every second. Had there been any Delex swimming by, the dolphin-like creatures would have been sucked helplessly into the whirlpool. It deepened with every inch it grew by, and it wasn't long before it had reached the statue buried far below the surface.

Solid stone poked through the surface. Even through his shell, the being could feel sunlight washing over him. His power over Earth built up inside of him, causing his stone prison to tremble and vibrate as if about to burst. It did, eventually, after he had shaken it up enough. The resultant *bang* echoed across the desert, and little steaming chunks of rock were scattered far and wide.

The being climbed to his feet, and the pit he had created rose up again until it was level with the rest of the Great Desert, like it had never been there previously.

"It's good to be back!" the spirit proclaimed, placing his hands on his hips in an approving pose as he scanned the empty desert. "Now I think I'll go find something with some taste to it… then the others! Yes. Food first, then the others."

Gulo, Spirit of Gluttony, was good at prioritizing.

-.-.-.-.-.

The seventh spirit was the very last to awaken from his thousand-and-nine-hundred-fifty-year sleep.

As was usual for the Tainted Sea, the sky was overcast and the air was only slightly humid. Despite being so close to the ocean, this secluded cove held no life aside from insects and small plants. The beach was rocky and barren, and the waves that washed over the shore only brought inanimate debris with it. There weren't even any fish bones or dead creatures to speak of. In the distance, the famous lighthouse of Port Tanzia rose up from the horizon like a grim obelisk, and the wind blew the stench of its fires toward the lifeless coast.

Of course, there was a very good reason for the Tainted Sea's condition. It was exactly that – tainted. The waters of the bay were uncomfortably warm, almost boiling hot, and nothing could live in such horrible conditions. Legends said that, at the bottom of the bay, rested a legendary elder dragon that had been cast into banishment by another, more benevolent, creature.

And every legend had a grain of truth buried at its core.

 _I can FEEL…_

If there had been anything living at the bottom of the bay, they would have felt the sudden disturbance that rippled through the depths. It was as if a long-dormant presence had abruptly stirred for the first time in many centuries. All movement in the water stopped – it was like the tides themselves had momentarily frozen with fear.

Two medium-sized thermal vents that stuck out from the seabed, which had long remained inactive, suddenly brightened and spewed lava into the water. They were joined by several smaller vents that grew out of the rocky floor nearby. For the first time, orange-red light touched the murky depths of the Tainted Sea.

 _I can SPEAK…_

A low, rumbling roar vibrated through the water, and the ground began to shake. The volcanoes shifted, then suddenly moved upwards, as if something was pushing them up from out of the ground. The two largest volcanoes rained dust down on the seafloor as a pair of thick, flightless wings unfolded. A cluster of six volcanoes began to rise, revealing a head-shaped mound upon which two points of fiery light glowed – a pair of eyes.

 _I can SEE…_

The roar increased in volume to a deafening bellow as the elder dragon emerged from the ground, its many volcanoes belching smoke and fire into the water. Huge hissing clouds of bubbles erupted into the water, easily cloaking the gigantic beast. It seemed as though the dragon was part of the land itself, with its rocky hide and volcanoes sprouting from its head, wings, and tail.

 _I can MOVE…_

The surface of the Tainted Sea heaved, and the elder dragon's head and shoulders exploded up out of the water. Salty spray rained around it as it took its first breath of fresh air. Its eyes blazed hotter as it glimpsed the overcast sky and the mile-high cliff walls that enclosed the Tainted Sea.

With immense effort, the elder dragon managed to drag its enormous bulk onto land, thanks to a pair of legs that hadn't quite gotten used to moving yet. On those same legs, it stood tall once more, drinking in the sights and smells that were there for it to drink.

 _Finally… I am awake. Finally… I can enjoy what my beautiful world has to offer me._

It was _his_ world. His to live in. His to admire. His to conquer.

Opening his jaws, the elder dragon unleashed a triumphant roar that shattered the sound barrier, making the air itself ripple. Fire and rock erupted forth from his volcano-wings, flying high into the atmosphere before falling back down as a hail of meteors. Each meteor that hit the ground made it tremble, and rightfully so. The Earth itself was smart to fear the elder dragon's revival.

As fire rained down around him, he smiled. Announcing his return had felt better than he had thought it would, even if there was nothing around to hear it.

No matter. They would find out soon enough.

In the blink of an eye, the elder dragon had vanished. There was no fancy flash of light that announced his disappearance – he was simply there one moment, and gone the next.

In the dragon's place was a cloaked figure.

Superbius, Sin of Pride, averted his gaze to the sky. Distantly, he could see the black storm clouds that hung over the Deserted Island, away from the continent. He could feel an unusually cold breeze, feel the rumblings of the faraway mountain, and hear the distant sifting of sand…

All of these were signs that he was not the only one to have awakened today.

 _After many lifetimes spent suffering in a place where despair reigns and pain is the only way to atone for past crimes,_ Superbius thought, a dark smile playing across his lips, _it gives me some satisfaction to even dare think of this…_

 _The Seven Deadly Sins are back._

-.-.-.-.-.

 **How awesome was that, huh? Introducing the main villains of MSS!**

 **It's weird, though – I couldn't help but feel** _ **really**_ **good when I wrote this chapter, describing the villains and their unique personalities. Indeed, maybe** _ **you**_ **felt good as you read the chapter. Perhaps it's because the Sins are a part of each of us?**

… **In any case, I've got cravings for potato chips, a nap, the feeling of rain on my skin, and limitless power to go satiate. See you! Send reviews, please!**


	2. Horrible History

_**Chapter 2 – Horrible History**_

-.-.-.-.-.

The Frontier had been the last of the regions to stop warring with the monsters. This was mostly because of the kill-or-be-killed attitude ingrained within the locals, the result of generations of struggling for survival in a war-torn world. But finally, the monster-hunting stopped and the merciless retaliations ceased soon after.

Now, peace could at last reign supreme. And this made the restless master of the Frontier's Hunter's Guild feel uneasy.

He was an elderly Wyverian, a race that had allied itself with those like the humans and Troverians many millennia ago. They could either be short and goblin-like, or tall and almost human in appearance. The Guild-Master was on the lower end of the scale, but for what he lacked in stature he made up for in wisdom. He had maintained his position for generations, and was a trusted, well-respected leader.

For many a night he had gone without sleep. Mostly, these long and torturous nights had been due to monster attacks or a fear of impending monster attacks. As the largest city and center of trade in the Frontier, Mezeporta and its neighboring military base had seen its share of invasions by the strongest of monsters. Most of them were elder dragons, intelligent and vastly powerful creatures probably hoping to put a huge dent in the Frontier's human population by laying waste to its main trade center.

That was why Mezeporta was home to a Hunter's Guild. This one boasted the most courageous and elite hunters out of all the Guilds, trained to fight back against the hordes of extremely vicious monsters that the Frontier was so infamous for. Thanks to the Guild, and by extension the Guild-Master himself, Mezeporta had been saved from destruction more times than anyone could count. Not to say that the amount of loss always seemed to be tragic… but the losses would be undeniably worse without the efforts of the hunters.

All of this, though, was now in the past. The 'Age of Hunters' had been declared over, and a new 'Age of Knowledge' had begun. While there had always been scientists and explorers that dedicated their lives to studying monsters, the Human-Monster War was over, and the explosion of opportunities for monster study was absolutely tremendous. The risk of being killed on sight had gone with the end of the war, so now researchers could observe monsters to their heart's content, and learn so much more about them.

The Age of Knowledge owed its success to one individual. This individual was known only as the Hero – an otherwise ordinary hunter that had been born about forty years ago, in a small village deep within the Central World. The Central World was a very mysterious place at the very heart of the Great Continent, crawling with deadly new species of monsters. Hunter's Guilds all over the known world had received reports from their field workers about serpents that shone with the power of the sun… a wyvern that roamed the land and stained its horn with the blood of innocents…

Anyway, this Hero grew up in the Central World and was trained to hunt monsters, but he ended up befriending one instead. He and his new companion, a Rathalos, convinced the people of the Central World that the Human-Monster War should be stopped – and gradually, the entire continent followed, putting down their weapons and hailing the Hero as… well, a hero.

Yes, the Age of Knowledge was a glorious time.

That didn't help soothe the Guild-Master's uneasiness one iota.

With a half-strangled gasp, he awoke from his nightmare and immediately sat up. His brow was slick with fear-induced sweat, and his breathing was heavy and labored. His heart was beating at a rate that was probably rather unhealthy for a being of his advanced age.

"Just… just a dream," the Guild-Master assured himself. "It was a manifestation of my imagination, that's all. It wasn't real…"

But the words from his nightmare were still in his head, taunting him, singing the same verse over and over again. They chanted a song that went like…

" _We're just useless spellcasters that aren't whole._

 _But the Eye will restore our glory._

 _You'll be dead, we'll be rulers so promptly._

 _We'll kill all of you,_

 _That's very true,_

 _Who is it that just got free?_ "

The chant from the Guild-Master's nightmare chilled him to the bone whenever he thought of them. At first, the old Wyverian had been dreaming of things that had nothing to do with him – he saw the Hero and the end of the Human-Monster War, the first researchers embarking on their expeditions, the hustle and bustle of a city no longer plagued by monster attacks… and then the dream had turned dark, and the Guild-Master had found himself surrounded by shadowy figures that sang ominously in his ears.

Inadvertently, the song slipped to the front of his mind again – " _Who is it that just got free?_ "

"Tea," he grunted, crawling out of bed. "A nice, warm drink is what I need."

Yawning widely, the elderly Wyverian exited his chamber and went down to the kitchen for some tea. A hot beverage was always a welcome friend for an old, deteriorating fellow who couldn't fall asleep. As he got the kettle ready, he inadvertently turned to look out the window – even at night, where the only light came from the moon and the stars, the shadowy silhouette of the huge Guild Hall never failed to impress him. In the old days, that was where the officials determined which monsters were to be hunted, and where hunters accepted quests to slay those monsters. Recently, though, the Guild Hall was now home to the researchers, who would accept missions to go out into the field and conduct their studies.

For some reason, not even the sight of the Guild Hall, or the thought of working with his fellow Guild officials, could make the old Wyverian feel any better.

Peace prevailed, and yet the Guild-Master was not celebrating. Instead, there was that feeling of dread that welled up inside of him, telling him to watch his back. Things weren't as they seemed.

 _I'm just being paranoid,_ he decided, filling his kettle with water. _I've known nothing but war my entire life – my long, long life. I'm not used to things being so calm._

He remembered his dear old father, who had been born before the Human-Monster War first began. He had been the first Guild-Master of the Mezeporta Hunter's Guild, one thousand years ago. He would sit his son on his lap and retell the stories he had heard from the other Hunter's Guilds – tales of chaos and people struggling to survive in a world that, all of a sudden, wanted them dead.

In a region on the other side of the continent, known only as "the Nameless", an elder dragon had awoken from its slumber on Heaven's Mount and wiped out a village called Cathar. After eating its fill, it had slithered back to its nest and fell asleep once more, and was never seen again.

In the mighty Schrade Kingdom, another elder dragon had single-handedly destroyed the entire city and settled down in the ruins. No hunter who journeyed to Castle Schrade, where the dragon slept, ever came back.

There were more disasters in those first few weeks of the war – in particular, the Guild-Master remembered his father telling him of a largely unexplored region called the Mysterious Beyond, whose biggest trade city had fallen and crumbled to nothing. The beginning of the war had seen some of the darkest days for humankind and Wyverian-kind.

The Guild-Master remembered those tales even though his father was long dead. In all his time serving as Mezeporta's Guild-Master, he had only heard of one disaster as catastrophic as the ones in the stories. Fifty years ago, a hurricane had battered Moga Island and destroyed the villages there. He recalled that day as if it were yesterday, thinking back to the urgent messages, and the arguments with the Guild officials, and more sleepless nights…

A shrill whistle brought the Guild-Master out of his troubled thoughts. His tea was ready. Grunting as he forced his tired old bones to move, he took the kettle and poured its contents into a mug, then crushed a tea leaf in his shriveled hand and dropped the pieces into the hot water. After stirring the tea for a while, he took a tentative sip. Yes, that was satisfying.

Before he could make himself comfortable, though, there was a flutter of wings from outside. Suddenly, the moonlight streaming into the kitchen was blocked by a large figure that strained to get its bulk through the window. It was a Halk, and an unusually big one at that.

Halks were one of the few monsters that had not been hunted during the Human-Monster War. In fact, they were used as companions and scouts by hunters in the Frontier – the flying wyverns would fly long distances to find their quarry, then lead their masters to the monster so it could be killed. And for thousands of years, Halks had been a huge part of culture in the Frontier. Even in the middle of the war, you couldn't just throw such a thing away.

"Algor?" the Guild-Master rasped, recognizing the bird-like monster. "Ah, you've returned from delivering my message to His Immenseness in Dundorma. Finally, something to be happy about."

With a squawk, Algor squeezed through the window and extended his wings to their full seven-foot span. Attached to his leg was a scroll, a return message from the master of Dundorma City's Hunter's Guild. But when the Guild-Master looked up at the Halk's beak, he could see an unmistakable frown.

 _It's not good news that Algor brings,_ he realized.

Obligingly, Algor plucked the scroll from his leg and bent down to give it to the Guild-Master. The old Wyverian accepted it with a smile, and patted the wyvern's majestic head.

"Go now, Algor," he murmured. "Get some rest. You've had a long flight."

The Halk chirped and affectionately tweaked his master's ear, then clambered back through the window and soared off to his usual evening roost.

With his frown returning to his face, the Guild-Master unrolled the message and scrutinized it. Every sentence he read made his expression darken, and his feeling of unease strengthen.

" _Unusual tectonic activity recorded near Cathar II, cause not confirmed. Gunpowder and cannonballs going missing from the Battlequarters, thief or thieves not yet identified. Monsters native to the Old Swamp appearing outside their natural habitats, believed to be a sudden change in the environment. Storm system building over Moga Island, spotted by Dragonwatch._ "

It wasn't exactly bad news, but nonetheless, it was certainly not good. The Guild-Master felt the dread build up inside him until he couldn't help but drop the message. He held his fingers to his temples, fighting the dread and refusing to let it overwhelm him. He would have to think logically about all of this – and more importantly, he'd have to decide what, if any, course of action to take in response.

First and foremost, the "unusual tectonic activity". Cathar II had been built a long time ago, soon after the original Cathar had been destroyed. Once the elder dragon had vanished, and no trace of it was found even after years of searching, Heaven's Mount had been deemed safe enough for construction of a new village to begin. But with this new and worrying development, was Cathar II no longer safe?

Then the disappearance of gunpowder from the Battlequarters, which was a fortress built on the outskirts of Dundorma City to withstand elder dragon attacks. A very long time ago, it was said, such things had been stolen from the Battlequarters before, and the perpetrator was later revealed to be a hideous dragon called Gogmazios. However, when the hunters of Dundorma's Guild had retaliated, Gogmazios had retreated. The hunters followed its oily trail all the way to the edge of the Old Swamp – a journey that had taken several weeks, as the Old Swamp was part of a region away from the Frontier. But all signs of Gogmazios had disappeared, forcing the hunters to call off the search.

Nothing else had dared steal from the Battlequarters since Gogmazios attacked, not even the most ferocious of elder dragons. That terrifying beast had been the only exception. In the weeks before its discovery, it had made off with so much gunpowder that trade in Dundorma had been seriously affected. Only a year after that awful, awful time…

"The Day of Destruction," the Guild-Master whispered aloud.

Among the many things his father had told him about, the Day of Destruction had been the most important tale of all. It had been terrible – no, 'terrible' didn't even begin to cover it. The Gogmazios attack and the fall of Cathar had been terrible. The Day of Destruction had been _catastrophic_.

Almost two thousand years ago – one thousand, nine-hundred-fifty to be precise – a group of unimaginably powerful monsters had risen up against the world. These creatures weren't only powerful, but they each controlled a different magical element. Magic was a largely unknown force of nature that no ordinary life-form on the entire Great Continent had control over. Anyone who tried to practice magic soon learned that it was impossible to learn without severe consequences. The lucky ones died outright – the unlucky ones were corrupted and gradually consumed by a dark evil.

Many modern-day philosophers speculated that the monsters involved in the Day of Destruction had somehow come across magic and were corrupted by it. That was the generally accepted scenario, because this group was as evil as evil got. They appeared out of the blue one day and immediately started a murderous rampage, wiping entire cities out of existence. The number of casualties was theorized to be in the millions. If they hadn't been stopped, then they would have continued to spread chaos and death until every last sentient being was gone. Humans, Wyverians, Felynes… they all would have been wiped out.

But the monsters _had_ been stopped! Miraculously, the Ancestor White Fatalis himself – a legendary beast that was rumored to be as powerful as a deity – had come down from his mysterious lair and chased the monsters to a part of the Nameless region known only as 'the Sanctuary'. Once inside the mountain walls of the Sanctuary, the evil monsters had fought White Fatalis until the Ancestor could barely move. But his brother and sister, known as Crimson Fatalis and Black Fatalis, came to his rescue and finished the evil ones.

Then, the White Fatalis regained his strength and dealt the final blow. He used his divine powers to imprison the evil ones in Hell, and scattered their bodies far and wide so that no one could find them.

"But it wasn't over," murmured the Guild-Master. He abandoned his tea and went to look out the window again, fixing his gaze on the starry sky above. "Only a year afterward, there was the Frenzy outbreak… the Shagaru Magala… then the thefts from the Battlequarters… No one had ever seen monsters quite like them before, and it's said to this day that the Shagaru Magala and the Gogmazios were somehow connected to the Day of Destruction."

No sooner than the final word escaped his mouth, something happened.

Pain seized the Guild-Master's mind, a headache that felt bad enough to split his mind in two. A wave of dizziness brought the old Wyverian to the floor. A gasp escaped his lungs and his heart pounded furiously, spurred into action at the unexpected dizzy spell. With blurry eyes, the Guild-Master saw the room darken until there was almost no light at all. Evil laughter echoed faintly in his ears as the darkness started to swirl around him, turning into tendrils of shadow each with glowing purple eyes.

" _Who is it that just got free?_ " the voices demanded. " _Who is it that just got free?_ "

This was no mere nightmare. Feebly, the Guild-Master tried to rise, but he only got as far as his knees before the dizziness forced him back onto the ground. The shadows closed in around him, cackling madly as they swirled and circled even faster, taking delight in tormenting him.

"N-No more…!" gasped the Guild-Master. "No more of this… p-please…"

Pleading did nothing to stop the vision that plagued him. Darkness threatened to suffocate him as the malevolent fog continued its assault on his mind. Multiple voices chanted torturously in his ears, the lyrics promising doom and death and the end to civilization as he knew it. More than anything, he wished for the vision to end.

The Guild-Master could feel himself growing cold as fear clutched his bones and froze his muscles in place. He was too scared to do anything but lie there and stare at the horrific entities that flew around him, torturing him with their singing and laughter.

He didn't know exactly when he fell unconscious, but when he did, it was a mercy.

-.-.-.-.-.

It was a long time before someone else walked into the kitchen and discovered the Guild-Master.

Two Guild officials, wearing their regular burgundy uniforms, burst into the room and immediately saw the Wyverian crumpled on the floor. The sight of him lying there in such a helpless state made their blood run cold, as if they knew that something wasn't right. One of the officials whispered something to her companion, and he nodded before running off.

He wasn't gone long. He returned with a much younger Wyverian in tow, her nightgown slightly wrinkled and her smooth face a mask of worry and despair. She knelt down to feel the Guild-Master's forehead, and she went pale down to the roots of her bright pink hair when she realized that his skin was as cold as ice.

"He's not dead," Caela whispered. She glanced up at the Guild officials with wide, worried eyes. "Mircon, you carry my grandfather back to his chamber where he'll be safe. Bring his tea with him in case he wakes up."

Mircon bowed to her and gathered the old Wyverian in his arms, also accepting the cup that Caela handed to him. He left the kitchen without any delay, heading directly for the Guild-Master's chamber as he had been ordered.

The female Guild official stayed by Caela's side as she glanced around at the otherwise empty room. With the moonlight shining through the window and providing a silvery glow over the floor and furniture, it was the very picture of tranquility. But Caela and her companion were far too worried to admire it.

"You knew he wasn't dead," the official said to Caela, the tone of her voice almost accusatory. "What happened to bring him in such a state?"

For the longest time, Caela was silent as she fought to speak aloud the words she wanted to keep to herself. "A vision, Zald. That's the only explanation. He hasn't had one in so long… not since he sent his Halk with the message to His Immenseness in Dundorma."

Two pairs of eyes suddenly noticed the slip of paper on the kitchen table, where the Guild-Master had dropped it. When Caela picked it up, Zald peered over her shoulder and read it alongside her. They finished at the same time, and then the human and Wyverian exchanged worried glances.

"Things are changing," Caela said with utmost certainty.

Zald blinked. "Wh-What does this mean?" she quavered. "This ominous news, coupled with the vision you say he had… what's going to happen? The last time he saw the future…"

"It was a disaster," Caela finished for her. The dark shadows under her eyes contrasted with the moonlit whiteness of her face, making Zald feel like she was staring at a gaunt skull. "Algor hadn't even been gone for a day before that elder dragon attacked…"

"So soon after the war ended, too," Zald almost whimpered, hugging herself as if she wished her uniform would grow to hide her entirely. "The Large Exploration Ship was lost. Now we'll never get to the Sky Corridor."

Caela reflected on the memory. It had only been a couple of weeks ago when the news was brought back – the Frontier's Guild's new airship, simply titled the 'Large Exploration Ship', had disappeared on its way to a new island that had recently been discovered by the Dragonwatch. Unfortunately, they hadn't known that there was a new species of elder dragon guarding the place, and because of that, the Guild's finest technological marvel was nothing but scrap beneath the sea.

"We'll build another Large Exploration Ship," Caela said quietly, "but that isn't what's worrying me. My grandfather saw a devastating attack only a day before it happened… so what has he seen now?"

The young Wyverian decided that she'd rather not think about it. And even with another six hours left before sunrise, she didn't sleep a wink that night.

-.-.-.-.-.

Snug in his bedchamber once more, the Guild-Master tossed and turned in his slumber. His wrinkled face was stretched into a mask of discomfort as images danced inside his head, none of them showing anything he recognized, and all of them foreboding…

A bedraggled teenager bedecked in armor made from Great Jaggi hide, limping toward the gates of Mezeporta before collapsing with exhaustion.

A dark cave, and a shadowy figure sliding through the thick mist with a bone-chilling hiss.

The roar of the infamous Gogmazios, like the tolling of a gong as it smashed its way through a city.

Earthquakes, and mountains crumbling to dust as an ancient beast woke up in a bad mood.

And behind it all… seven shadows that twirled almost gleefully as they chanted their song in menacing voices…

" _We're just useless spellcasters that aren't whole._

 _But the Eye will restore our glory._

 _You'll be dead, we'll be rulers so promptly._

 _We'll kill all of you,_

 _That's very true,_

 _Who is it that just got free?_

 _Sins Deadly!_ "

-.-.-.-.-.

 **So, writing the last chapter gave me sinful cravings. I ate, I slept, I stood in the rain and let my worries be washed away… but still no limitless power. Damn it.**

 **Anyway, this chapter is kind of a "prologue", where I explain the whole backstory of the Monster Hunter universe (or at least my version of it). None of this is canon, but a lot of it has been inspired by canon stuff.**

 **If you still have questions, readers, feel free to ask if you are confused about anything.**

 **One more thing… this story will be a musical. That is, the characters will occasionally sing to express themselves. I hope you look forward to it!**

 **Review, please!**


	3. Spooky Swamp

_**Chapter 3 – Spooky Swamp**_

-.-.-.-.-.

 **Present Day**

For a long time, the end of the Human-Monster War meant peace. But in places such as the Swamp, peace could simply not be found. It was a dark, damp, foul-smelling, chillingly cold, and absolutely repulsive place to be for a human.

The Swamp was, simply put, the most awful of the Frontier's many biomes – or "sub-regions", which was the term used by the Hunter's Guild to describe any former hunting ground that lay within the boundaries of a region. And this sub-region was one that no hunter loved visiting in the days during the war. Even after the war, people still tried to stay away.

For, of course, only the most unpleasant of monsters could be found there. The creatures that lurked in the Swamp were monsters that didn't care about the end of the long, costly, and torturous war. They were monsters that would gladly kill a wandering person for the sheer sport of it.

Thus, it was only natural that no human eyes were present to witness the terrible sights to see in the deepest part of the Swamp's cave networks. Out of the entire disgusting quagmire, the caves were perhaps the most disgusting place of all. Bitterly cold, slimy with mold and dampness, and constantly echoing with the slithering of unknown things deep within their twisting tunnels… no, the Swamp's caves were no place for any person to be.

Currently, it was nighttime, and the moon was high in the sky, piercing easily through the clouds that perpetually darkened the sub-region. Inside the caverns, the only noises were the steady dripping of moisture from the ceiling and the whispering of the distant wind outside of their icy confines.

Until, that is, a hideous howl burst through the tunnels. Monsters of all kinds woke up and heard the sound, and all of them tucked themselves deeper and more securely in their dens, terror clutching their hearts with an iron grip.

From one particular cave was the howling emanating. The chamber was wide, darker than most, and wreathed in mist. From the ceiling, tree roots extended, reaching out like claws at imaginary prey. On the ground, black mud oozed, a substance that offered almost nothing for the few plants that managed to grow there. The mist coiled around those that fought in the cavern, gripping their bones with icy fingers. But neither monster noticed the cold – one was focused on the defense of its territory, and the other was focused only on the thrill of the hunt.

The Iodrome hissed, wagging its head in order to better display its intimidating purple crest. The bird wyvern's slimy red skin was perfectly adapted for life in the Swamp, its long tail was used for balance, and its curved jaws opened to reveal fangs slick with sticky venom. A trio of smaller Ioprey backed the leader up – they lacked the strength and distinguishing crest of their boss, but made up for it in numbers and bravery. Together, the raptors had sufficient combined strength to defend themselves against a monster as formidable as a Gypceros.

But three Ioprey and an Iodrome still weren't enough to drive away the pale white leviathan that half-stepped and half-slid onto a patch of muddy earth, illuminated by the bright moonlight that streamed through a crevasse in the ceiling. The light washed over its filthy, pale skin, making it shine and shimmer in a repulsive way. Its serpentine tail waved idly behind it, and it reared its long, S-shaped neck in order to stare down at the Iodrome with its burning orange eyes.

A monster such as this had never been seen in the Swamp – not even in the Frontier region, or even the entire Great Continent. For reasons unknown, the beast had migrated here from a distant place. In its native land, the people there had given it a special name, a name that was only ever spoken in fearful whispers… Baruragaru.

The Baruragaru's throat vibrated, and a low, guttural gurgle came out from it. The sound would have made even the most fearless living thing shudder. As it got more agitated, its bright red fins stuck straight up. It opened its mouth, showing off its dripping black teeth, and flicked out a muscular, serpent-like tongue. The tongue was crammed with sensors that allowed the leviathan to taste the air around it, and it ended with a razor-sharp point.

Together, the Baruragaru's gurgling, colorful fins, and long tongue combined into a threat display that should have sent any smaller monster running in terror.

Foolishly, the Iodrome was unfazed by the Baruragaru's threats. The monster screeched, and its throat bulged as it forced up a glob of poison. The ball of venom flew out of its maw and struck the Baruragaru right on the side of its neck.

With a horrible roar, the Baruragaru reared up onto its hind legs, head and tail writhing with pain. In fact, the pain was so awful that its mind couldn't focus on anything but. The viscous fluid from the Red Poison-Spitter (which was what it called the Iodrome) stuck to its scales and sizzled loudly as it corroded its skin, causing an agonizing burning sensation upon its scales. While the leviathan had been sprayed with venom from the smaller Poison-Spitters before, it didn't hurt nearly as much as that of the big one with the purple crest.

However, whereas the venom would have ordinarily diffused through the skin of its victim, it simply slid off of the Baruragaru's hide, washed away by the thick slime the monster naturally produced. Now free of the awful pain, it crashed back down onto all fours. It advanced on the Red Poison-Spitter and its posse, eyes burning an even brighter orange, such was its anger and hate.

Only now did the bird wyvern hesitate. Never before had a creature simply shrugged off its deadly poison. And come to think of it, it had never seen this particular sort of monster before. Just what was it, and where had it come from?

The Iodrome came out of its thoughts just in time to see the Baruragaru pounce.

With a surprisingly powerful leap, it crashed into the bird wyvern pack and sent the little ones scattering. Triumph made its eyes gleam dangerously while its stocky front limb came down and pinned its prey to the damp earth.

Panicking, the Iodrome thrashed and squawked as it desperately tried to free itself from the slimy leviathan's grip. Surely, its frog-like skin should have allowed it to slip away unharmed?

Then its thoughts were put to an abrupt end. The Baruragaru's leg came down again, this time on the smaller monster's head. With a solid whack, its blunt claws collided with the Iodrome's fragile skull and instantly killed it.

Emitting a gurgling growl of satisfaction, the Baruragaru raised its head up high to scan the area. Just in time, it caught sight of the trio of Poison-Spitters, creeping up from behind. A ghostly howl tore from its throat as it lashed out with its tongue, sending the raptors running with their tails between their legs.

"Sssss…" the leviathan hissed, as its long tongue flicked out like a snake's. Those puny creatures wouldn't be coming back to bother it.

Turning back to its dead prey, it allowed itself a moment of praise. It wasn't often that it managed to take down a creature as large as this, especially an unfamiliar one, as this one was. So far, it liked its new home in the Swamp – dark, cold, smelling of death and decay, and chock-full of surprisingly tasty treats. It was a much better place than its old home, across the unimaginably vast sea it had previously traversed to reach this spot.

"Sssss…" the Baruragaru hissed again, allowing its sensitive tongue to take in the welcome scents of the freezing-cold cavern.

Sometimes, it wondered why it had ever left its old home. It had been content there, before it had swum across the Big Water and into this glorious dark paradise. A dim memory surfaced… all-consuming hunger and an uncomfortable brightness being cast upon its sensitive skin. Maybe there wasn't enough food left in its old territory, or maybe a change in the climate had scared it away. As a denizen of the dark, the Baruragaru hated the sun. But, ultimately, the reason why it had journeyed across the Big Water in the first place was a mystery.

It quickly stopped thinking these confusing thoughts when it flicked out its tongue again, gathering the delicious scent of its recently-caught meal. The Baruragaru gurgled and reared its head up high, opening its mouth wide. Then with a huge lurch, its tongue shot out and plunged through the Red Poison-Spitter's skin, deep inside its body where the flesh was still steaming. The Baruragaru's eyes rolled back in its head as it felt warm body fluids pumping up through its tongue and down its throat. While solid meat was good in its own way, liquid foods such as blood and marrow were much better.

It drank everything that was there to be drank, even the Red Poison-Spitter's deadly venom. But the Baruragaru's unique metabolism, instead of reacting violently to the poison, began to store and duplicate the toxic material in a series of special storage sacs. The more the sacs filled up, the wider they became, until the scar-like markings down the Baruragaru's neck and tail split apart to reveal a transparent, permeable membrane. Bright purple in color, the membrane let small wisps of poisonous gas escape into the cold air around it.

"Sssss…" the Baruragaru hissed. The hiss came out rather slurred as the fluids finished making their way into its stomach.

Now, it growled. It had been a disappointingly quick meal, one that left it unsatisfied. It would need to hunt several more monsters of similar size in order to satiate its hunger.

With a wet slithering sound, the Baruragaru crept slowly but steadily away from its meal, leaving the dry remnants for scavengers. When a leviathan of its size walked, it was more like a crawl. The Baruragaru's limbs were small, but strong, allowing it to easily slide forward on its belly. This method of locomotion was what allowed the monster to sneak up so easily on its prey. They never seemed to see it coming.

Right before it was about to leave, it heard something. The fluttering of wings reached its ears, and it immediately swung its head around and glared at the cavernous chamber behind it. Its burning orange eyes scanned every inch, but the only movement was that of the mist floating along the ground. As far as it could tell, it was alone.

Snorting a puff of hot air out of its nostrils, the Baruragaru turned back around and left the cave entirely.

It didn't take long for the Baruragaru to reach its den – a small and comfortingly cramped cavern, the entrance of which was hidden under a small shelf of rock. There wasn't much space, barely enough for the den's owner to crawl in and curl up in sleep. The ceiling was high, though, so the Baruragaru didn't feel too closed in. The floor was bare, with no nesting materials or bones of past victims scattered around.

No other creature had been able to find the Baruragaru's den so far. It felt fortunate, but it didn't know why. Either the slimy monster was that good at finding a safe place to sleep, or the native monsters were just too frightened to come near.

A sudden blur of movement caught the Baruragaru's eye, and it twisted its head upward to look up at the den's dark ceiling. What it saw was puzzling – there was a strange wyvern perched on one of the tree roots that dangled overhead. It was small, about the size of the Poison-Spitters it had sent running earlier, and it had snow-white scales that stood out against the near-black ceiling. It had wings, talons, and a hooked beak, making it look more like an overgrown hawk than anything else.

Hadn't it just been thinking that the natives were too scared of it to enter its lair? It let out a snort of annoyance.

The Hawk-Thing noticed the Baruragaru staring at it and suddenly let go of the root, swooping low over the much larger creature's head. Further annoyed by the rush of wind that accompanied the creature's passing, the Baruragaru snapped its fangs and missed its tail by a hair. The wyvern screeched mockingly at the Baruragaru and began circling above the ceiling, as if waiting to see what its foe would do next.

All the Baruragaru did was stare at the idiotic Hawk-Thing. If looks could kill, then the sizzling glare in its eyes would have shot the wyvern out of the air. Around and around the Hawk-Thing flew in tight circles near the ceiling, seemingly content with doing so. The Baruragaru rapidly got bored with watching it soar aimlessly, and decided to go back to hunting. There was no way it would be able to sleep now.

It gave a derisive snort and flicked its tail dismissively at the Hawk-Thing. The Baruragaru expertly scraped away the mud beneath its feet, rapidly digging a hole with its shovel-like claws. Within seconds, all trace of the creature disappeared, except the pit it had dug into the soft earth. And even then, the mud began to ooze slowly down, rapidly filling up the hole again.

The Ice Halk watched the hole slowly fill itself back up, her head tilted curiously. She had followed the leviathan all the way here from the site of its battle with the Iodrome. She had never seen a monster quite like that before, even though her old master had taken her on many a hunt before the war ended. And even after the war, after she had been given to a new master, the two of them had taken to journeying back to former hunting grounds and exploring.

But never, in all her years of travel, had she spotted anything remotely similar to that repulsive slithering thing. And in the Swamp, no less.

A soft screech emitted from the Halk's beak, and she wheeled off. Her new master would want to hear about this.

Out of the claustrophobic cave she flew, through a small hole in the wall and back into the damp tunnels in search of her master. All was quiet when she left, and the only sound that was made was the steady dripping of moisture from the tree roots overhead.

But suddenly, the mud began to shift with a soft, almost ominous sliding sound. A head poked out from underneath the thick substance, and two fins pricked up alertly as its eyes followed the wyvern out of the den. It felt its stomach rumble as it remembered its disappointing snack from before, and decided that one more snack for the evening was better than nothing.

Grinning a predator's grin, the Baruragaru changed its mind about the Hawk-Thing. It dove back under the mud, and stealthily gave chase.

-.-.-.-.-.

The mud squished under the monster researcher's feet as he proceeded deeper into the caverns. Water dripped from the ceiling and slipped off of his leathery armor, made from the hide of a Great Jaggi, but he paid no attention. It was his duty to observe and study the local monster population, so that other people could learn more about the creatures that filled their world. But his current research mission was annoying, frustrating, and tiring.

Phisto Docks had never liked the Swamp – not since he had first come to the Frontier for a job after being banished from Loc Lac City. Today, though, just didn't seem to be his day. He had already been attacked by an Iodrome and its pack, and had barely managed to fend the bird wyverns off with his Great Sword. And now, the deeper he went into the cave network, the soft mud began to cling to his feet, making his walk an increasingly difficult chore. And he didn't even want to think about how the roots extending from the ceiling looked more and more like fearsome claws reaching out to snag him…

Shuddering slightly, the teenager rounded a bend and came across the largest cavern he had seen yet. Mist slowly floated across the floor, and his breath came out in chilly clouds. Phisto swiftly dug into his pouch and took a swig of Hot Drink, feeling its warmth spreading from his stomach and throughout the rest of his body. Despite the chill that seemed to pervade the entire Swamp, he was sweating in his lightweight suit of armor.

The Human-Monster War was over, but that didn't stop Phisto from traveling to the various sub-regions that monster hunters used to frequent back in the old days. He himself had been a hunter – not a master, but not a rookie either – hailing from the Moga region's Loc Lac City. It had been a good life for the most part.

Unfortunately, an incident involving him, his friend Catry, and an angry Volvidon, he had been banished without further punishment and relieved from his hunting duties.

Left without a job, Phisto and his friend traveled for an entire year, heading from Moga to the Central World, where the monster war no longer raged. By the time he had crossed the Central World and made it to the Frontier, he had learned that the war was over. Thank goodness.

For indeed, the last leg of his journey to the Frontier, he and Catry had been attacked by a savage monster, and it had left them both with serious injuries. Hearing that the Human-Monster War was supposed to be over was the first good news Phisto had heard in a very long time. Once his wounds healed, he had applied for a job as a researcher, and had been accepted into the Guild alongside Catry.

The Docks boy hadn't focused on killing monsters in a very long time. Thus, early into his travels, he found that he could really appreciate the natural beauty of the wildly different landscapes that Moga and the Central World had to offer. Now, he could also explore the Frontier, which was originally notorious for the hordes of ridiculously fierce monsters that roamed its sub-regions. The Jungle, Desert, Volcano… none of them had anything in common, but they were all amazing in their own ways.

And the monsters… who would have thought the former hunter could grow to love the creatures he used to kill for a living? Phisto, who used to swat Bnahabras without a second glance, now marveled at how the sleek Velocipreys ran through the forests, how the mighty Rathaloses soared through the skies they ruled, and even how the Aptonoths plodded around in their simple, dumb way.

With the war having been over for five years now, there was no longer a need for hunters. For a short time, the various sub-regions had seen an utter lack of human activity, apart from the occasional explorer. And then suddenly, a huge demand for monster researchers came out of nowhere and spread across the known world. Men and women and even some teenagers, such as Phisto himself, were going out to study and learn about the monsters that had previously been seen only as pests. This new 'Age of Knowledge' was glorious, and the human civilization was more prosperous than it had ever been.

Phisto was a monster researcher now, and he loved his new job.

But right now…

"Where could Athena be?" the eighteen-year-old muttered to himself, tapping his foot and ignoring the squelching sound it made in the mud. "I sent her off a while ago… I hope she hasn't run into trouble."

He perished the thought. The Ice Halk couldn't be in trouble – not once since he had adopted her had she encountered life-threatening danger. She had been in perfect condition when they met, not even carrying a scar from all her years of accompanying her old master on hunts. Athena was loyal and dependable, a true friend in the form of a different species.

Just as Phisto wondered for the umpteenth time where she could be, her screech echoed back down the tunnel he had come through. He turned and saw her snow-white wings flapping majestically as she soared toward him.

He smiled as the smallest of wyverns landed on the ground in front of him – although at a human scale, she was anything but small. At seven feet long, her hawk-like head was held directly at his level, allowing them to literally see eye-to-eye. She was every bit as amazing right now as when her wings were spread in flight.

"I was beginning to worry about you," he said.

Athena jerked her head, as if to say, " _Seriously, YOU were beginning to worry about ME?_ "

The former hunter opened his mouth to respond, but Athena stalked past him before he could, walking farther into the huge cavern. She picked her way across the ground like a huge stork, her head poking forward with every cautious step. Phisto couldn't do anything but follow her.

She stopped in front of something that Phisto couldn't make out at first. It was dark and lumpy-looking, but unidentifiable. There was too much mist swirling around on the ground. He bent down and cleared the obscuring fog away – then leapt back and gasped loudly. The sound echoed through the cavern, making him jump again in fright. But nothing could have scared him more than what he had just seen.

He was staring into the blank eye and open maw of a dead Iodrome.

Ordinarily, there was no real need for Phisto to be frightened – the world was a harsh place, and a dead monster was just something else's lunch. No big deal, as long as whatever had eaten it wasn't still lurking around.

But something was chilling him, and it definitely wasn't the temperature of the cavern.

Kneeling down to more closely examine the deceased bird wyvern, Phisto scrutinized it with narrowed eyes. Its hide was still slimy, but that didn't really mean anything in the Swamp. It was so moist in this sub-region, that Iodrome could have been killed a week ago and not yet dry out. But there were other signs that indicated that this monster had been dead for a while – its only wound didn't leak any blood, for instance, and there was a foul smell around it.

"This guy's hardly been touched," mused Phisto. "There's only one wound, and it's pretty deep. And why haven't any scavengers come around yet? I would have assumed that something this old would have been eaten completely by now."

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to look at Athena. She pointed toward a marking she had made in the mud with her talon – the marking was in the shape of a 5.

Phisto stared hard at the number. "Five… days?" he guessed. "That's how long this Iodrome has been dead? Five hours, maybe?"

Athena shook her head and, hesitantly, clawed a human word in the dirt. She didn't know very many, but she had learned a few just in case she was ever separated from her master. When she was finished, Phisto's eyes widened.

"Five minutes?" he gasped. "That's impossible! This thing isn't leaking any blood! What are you suggesting happened to it – something went and drained the blood from its body?"

The answer he got was another tap on his shoulder. But Athena was right in front of him, so it couldn't have been her.

 _So, who is it…?_ Phisto thought with an increasing feeling of dread. _Or… WHAT is it?_

He whipped around, just in time to see the horrid leviathan's tongue slither out to tap him again.

-.-.-.-.-.

The Baruragaru was sorely disappointed. It had followed the Hawk-Thing from underground, back to the cave where it had killed the Red Poison-Spitter. Upon emerging from out of the mud, it saw that the Hawk-Thing had landed, and now that it was getting a good look at the white wyvern, it was smaller than it had thought. However, the Hawk-Thing was now accompanied by a familiar two-legged creature.

Of course, it knew what the Two-Legs was. There had been a few of them around its old home, strange little creatures that waved annoying pointy things at it whenever it met them. It had always assumed they were some kind of bird, from the way they flocked together and built their nests from sticks and dirt. But this Two-Legs wasn't very bird-like, now that it was looking at it close-up. Also, it seemed to be wrapped in folds of leathery skin, not feathers.

Intrigued by the oddness of the Two-Legs, the Baruragaru had poked it with its tongue to investigate. But the scrawny creature had noticed, and they were now staring at each other face-to-face. The expression on the Two-Legs' face was unfamiliar to the Baruragaru – after all, most monsters could only twist their faces into snarls or scowls, the better to intimidate other monsters. Thus, the look that the Two-Legs was giving it was a puzzling one.

"Sssss…" the Baruragaru hissed, flicking its tongue out to taste the air.

Then, all became clear. One taste was all it took – now it understood what the Two-Legs was grimacing about. The puny creature was afraid.

A chilling, predatory grin split the Baruragaru's muzzle in two. Fear meant weakness – and those who were weak were prey.

It stalked forward, prepared to make as much of a meal as it could out of the tiny, armored Two-Legs and its wyvern companion.

-.-.-.-.-.

Phisto stood perfectly still, shocked and frightened beyond belief as he stared into the burning orange eyes of the serpentine monster. His instincts were urging him to run away as fast as he could – it was as if the unknown monster was cloaked in an invisible aura of fear, stirring up panic in him every time it moved.

However, there was something that was telling him to do the opposite. His experience as a monster researcher told him that the creature in front of him was a monster that he had never seen before, and that the things he could learn from studying it would be valuable indeed.

So, the Docks boy banished his instincts, squashed down his fear, and gazed up at the repulsive beast.

The monster was at least seventy feet long from the tip of its grotesque snout to the end of its tail, which waved slowly in the air behind it in a rippling motion. Its basic body shape consisted of a very long neck and tail, with a small head and four short limbs that sprawled out to the sides, nothing like Phisto had ever seen in the Frontier. Occasionally, a long, snake-like tongue would slither out from between the creature's jaws, which were arranged in a way to make it look like it was constantly grinning. Along its neck and tail, there were long purple stripes that were drenched in slime, and the edges of its mouth were stained with blood.

From the monster's appearance alone, Phisto could glean several valuable facts. One, he could infer that it was a carnivore from the shape and arrangement of its exposed teeth. Two, its pale, slimy skin made it clear that it was built for living in dark, damp places. And three, its general body shape was reminiscent of a leviathan, a monster family that was extremely rare in the Frontier, but were abundant in the distant Moga region, from where he was native.

"Sssss…" hissed the monster, flicking its tongue out again as if tasting the air.

 _Let's see,_ Phisto thought. _It's a new type of leviathan, it's a carnivore, and it lives in damp places. I can see from its small legs that it's probably slow on land, so it most likely stalks its prey before ambushing them – which is supported by the fact it managed to sneak up on me without a sound._

He should have been more excited about discovering a new species of monster, but Phisto felt more afraid than eager.

 _One thing's for certain,_ he mused. _When I officially describe this thing, I'm putting it in the Fear Class. No doubt about that. I think it's ugly enough to give even a Bullfango nightmares._

He reached for his Great Sword, a huge, curved blade made from the shell and claw of a Terra Shogun Ceanataur. Of course, he hadn't killed such a deadly creature himself – no, he had taken it from the body of a dead hunter on his wanderings. His name for the ultra-sharp weapon was the Carmine Blade, and it had proven time and again to be extremely effective at cleaving through even the hardest of monster carapaces.

Not only that, but his armor was made from the flexible leathery hide of a Great Jaggi – and it was old and battle-tested. He had made it himself back in his days as a hunter. But where the Jaggi skin he wore had proven thick enough to deflect a Volvidon's claws, would it be enough to defend him now, if this creature decided to attack?

"Sssss…" the monster hissed again. It was accompanied by a low gurgle that sent shivers up Phisto's spine.

The researcher kept his hand on the hilt of his blade and assumed a ready stance. "Stay back," he declared loudly. "I'm a hunter with a weapon, and I will use it if necessary."

The Baruragaru snorted softly and shook its head, as if it had just sneezed. It didn't understand the squeaky noises that the Two-Legs was making, but it certainly understood the tone. It was loud and brash – definitely not the voice of a weak or frightened foe. The Two-Legs might be tougher to take down than it thought, and it was so small that it began to question whether it was worth the effort.

But on the other limb, the leviathan hadn't found anything else to eat all day. This scrawny little creature, as well as its wyvern companion, might be all that it would get until tomorrow.

So, it made the only logical decision open to it. With a howl, it lunged forward at its future meal.

Phisto shouted and jumped out of the way, hitting the soft ground with a loud splat. The monster landed just behind him, causing a small tremor as its bulk crashed into the mud. Immediately, Phisto whirled around and got to his feet in time to see it twist its long neck around to face him. Its terrifying orange eyes bore into him as it advanced once more.

There was a hideous lurching sound, and the monster's tongue shot forward to impale him. Phisto quickly rolled out of the way, and the appendage buried itself in the mud behind him. The monster roared with disgust and pulled its tongue free.

In that moment, Phisto quickly sprinted up to the monster's side and pulled on his Carmine Blade's hilt with all his strength. The big, heavy sword slipped from the restraints on his back and fell downward, the super-sharp edge aimed straight at the creature's foot.

But, with shocking speed, the monster leapt backwards, and the Great Sword crashed into the ground. That was bad – Great Swords were designed purely for power, and to compensate for that, the mobility of the user was badly restricted. If the blade connected with monster hide, it was almost always over in an instant, but if it missed, then it always took far too long to pick it up again.

Phisto struggled to lift the Carmine Blade from the mud as the monster stalked toward him once again. When it was within striking distance, it lunged again, its snake-like neck stretching out and its horrible jaws reaching for him. The researcher could only watch, certain that it was all over.

There was a white blur and a screech, and suddenly, the monster was retreating backward and howling at the top of its lungs. It ducked its head down and tried to scrape at its face with a stubby foreleg, and for a brief instant, Phisto could see a small, bleeding cut slashing across its face and into its gums.

 _Athena,_ he realized with a grateful smile.

The Ice Halk shrieked and dove down again for another go, willing to defend her master to the death if she had to. And it almost _was_ the death of her, too – the monster's tongue shot into the air and narrowly missed her, skewering a Vespoid fluttering around near the ceiling.

Letting a gurgling growl curl out from its throat, the Baruragaru retracted its tongue with a clearly audible slurp and gulped down the sour-tasting neopteron. This Two-Legs was really testing its patience.

The beast made that repulsive lurching sound in its throat again as Phisto managed to sheath his Carmine Blade. Instead of launching its tongue, though, it did something completely unexpected – a noticeable ripple passed along the purple stripes on its neck, and all of a sudden, a blast of purple-black venom was ejected from its maw. Phisto quickly leapt out of the way, dodging the poisonous projectile that hissed loudly when it hit the mud just beneath his toes.

"It can spit poison too," the researcher muttered bitterly. "I should have known."

Athena screeched and folded her wings, diving down upon the monster's ugly snout and slashing it again with her beak. It howled and whipped its neck from side to side, trying to shake her off. The Halk held fast with her talons, but her grip almost immediately began to slip on its moist skin.

Rearing its neck back, the monster snapped its head to the side one last time, and Athena was successfully flung away. A slurred hiss emitted from its mouth as it chased her, shockingly fast on those short legs.

"Athena!" Phisto yelled her name as he sprinted after the beast, reaching for the hilt of his Great Sword. Finding it, he pulled it from its strap and heaved it with every ounce of his strength. The blade sliced down through the air and carved a deep wound in the monster's back leg.

While its howls had been horrifying to hear before, they could not compare to the searing scream of pain that blasted its way out from between its jaws. Instinctively, Phisto winced and tried to cover his ears, before remembering that his leather helm prevented his hands from reaching them. Black-red blood splattered through the air and stained his burgundy armor with dark streaks.

The monster's scream petered out to a low moan as its injured leg slipped on the mud, and it toppled to the ground with a noise between a crash and a splat. In agony, it writhed on the ground, throwing droplets of mud and its own blood into the air all over the place. Quickly exhausting itself, the monster stopped thrashing and lay still on the ground, the only movements being from its twitching tail and its jaws, which moved ever so slightly as it moaned. Its breath came out in harsh gasps.

But contrasting with the beast's clearly painful condition were its eyes – they glared daggers at Phisto, spearing him with their burning orange light. He couldn't even begin to imagine the depths of the leviathan's hatred.

"Yikes," whispered Phisto. "This must be what the Hero saw when he looked into his nemesis' eyes for the first time."

He retrieved his Carmine Blade from the ground, and heaved it over his shoulder with difficulty. Slipping it back into its pseudo-sheath with a bit of effort, Phisto spared the injured leviathan one last glance. It was still lying there, just watching him.

"Sorry," he murmured. "It was only self-defense."

With that, he strode out of the cave, Athena soaring along behind him.

The Baruragaru's glare intensified as the damned Two-Legs left, as if it was hoping to kill him with its gaze alone. The pain its leg had gone down slightly, from a wild fire to the low, constant burning of hot coals. Even now, the injured limb twitched and jerked spasmodically as if fighting the loss of blood that leaked profusely down onto the ground in a slow, red river.

If it survived this unfortunate encounter, there was one lesson it had learned and could use in the future. The Baruragaru mulled this over in its pain-inflamed mind, with shocking logic and precision for such a brutal-looking monster.

 _Never mess with those annoying armored fleas again. They probably don't taste good, anyway._

Then the last of its strength petered out, its eyes rolled back in its head, and unconsciousness claimed it.

-.-.-.-.-.

 **This isn't the end of the Baruragaru, readers…**

 **Official maps of the Monster Hunter universe do exist, but I've made up my own for the purposes of this fanfiction. There is one "Great Continent" separated into several regions, each of which represent a different generation of Monster Hunter (with two exceptions).**

 **Remember, this story takes place in the same universe as my "Monster Hunter Destiny" series. If you have questions about anything, readers, feel free to ask if you are confused.**

 **Give me reviews, I beg of you!**


	4. Many Mysteries

_**Chapter 4 – Many Mysteries**_

-.-.-.-.-.

Phisto couldn't get the image of the beast out of his mind as he left the bone-chilling cold of the caves and trekked back through the main body of the Swamp – a dark, dingy pesthole choked with weeds, mud, and unpleasant monsters. But none of those monsters, he figured, would ever strike so much terror in his heart again.

Not when he had something much worse to compare them to.

"What in the name of Fatalis was that?" the researcher muttered to himself. "A new species, perhaps. This is definitely going to impress the Guild, a lot more than the report on the differences between Herbs and Antidote Herbs they requested, good gods…"

Athena clucked with amusement. Her master never enjoyed the "boring" assignments he frequently got from the Guild, most of which were more in the botany field of biological studies. The Guild was still extremely cautious of the monsters, even though the war had been over for five years.

The war had been ended by a remarkable individual known only as "the Hero". He had not been seen since ending the Human-Monster War, it was said, but it was also said that he was native to the vast, largely uninhabited wilderness known as the Central World, where only a few small, pioneering villages existed.

The Docks boy had become inspired to come to Mezeporta and become a monster researcher when he had first heard of the Hero's remarkable feats. This had been several years ago, around the same time the Age of Knowledge had begun. The people of Moga, Minegarde, the Frontier, and the Nameless all burned to learn more about their former enemies, and the monster researcher business had entered a dramatic boom as a result.

And now, Phisto finally had a major discovery to claim credit for – not just the little things like breakthroughs in wyvern genetics or Blue Mushroom diversity. How many researchers out there were encountering _brand-new species_?

None, as it were. The last major discovery made by the Hunter's Guild had been made shortly after the war ended – the existence of a mysterious island dominated by a tower called the Sky Corridor. Rumor had it that a plan to fly to the Sky Corridor and explore its ancient halls was currently in the works. Aside from that, though, there had been no real discoveries made by monster researchers in the past five years. That made Phisto feel like he had accomplished something.

 _Although,_ he thought, _it almost would have been worth staying in the plant research field if I didn't have to discover_ _ **that**_ _monster._

He shuddered involuntarily. He didn't have any trouble admitting that he was curious about that leviathan – he was already asking himself questions like, _Was it always here? Why haven't they been seen before now?_

But there was one thing that was clear to him. Phisto couldn't help but imagine that he would feel much more comfortable if he never had to think about that beast again.

He spent another day walking through the Swamp. And then, when the terrain changed from mud to grass, he was home at last.

-.-.-.-.-.

Since the Human-Monster War had started a thousand years ago, there had always been a central hub for the hunters of the Frontier region to gather in huge numbers. Here in Mezeporta Square, they would swap stories, laugh and socialize over mugs of ale, and get themselves ready for their next hunt.

The history of Mezeporta Square was a little bit confusing to those who weren't from the Frontier. During the war, it had been connected to a larger city called Dondruma, which had been constantly plagued with monster attacks as the years passed. Shortly before the attacks stopped, it had been visited by the most powerful elder dragon yet, and was promptly razed to the ground. The city had been rebuilt under the name of Mezeporta – while it could have easily been renamed Dondruma II, the mayor of the faraway Dundorma City had requested that they went with another name, on the grounds that 'Dondruma' was too similar to the name of his own city.

Even after ten years following the end of the war, Mezeporta Square still existed, and, surprisingly, it was as lively as ever. The Hunter's Guild had disbanded the hunters and quickly gathered a supply of monster researchers to serve in their stead. Now, the Guild officials that ran the place had a new duty – to send their researchers off into the vast wilds of the Great Continent, in a grand quest to learn more about it.

The Square was a wide, open place on the outskirts of the city itself, an urban clearing surrounded by high, natural rock walls. It was almost like its own separate village, with well-paved streets, tent-like buildings, and all different kinds of people walking in any and all directions. On the far side of the Square, some hundred acres away, a waterfall poured down from a hole in the cliff, filling the lake with pristine water.

It was a comforting place to Phisto. He had grown up in the massive desert city of Loc Lac, where there were no open spaces like this. Now, Mezeporta itself was another matter – it was very much like Loc Lac, right down to the narrow streets, numerous buildings, and gigantic Guild Hall.

A delightful shiver never failed to travel up Phisto's spine whenever he and Athena approached the bustling community. The air was fresh as he took a deep breath of it through his nose. The sky was the most brilliant shade of blue imaginable. The sound of the distant waterfall was faint in his ears. And most lovely of all, the midday sun cast its light over the entirety of the Square, illuminating the well-manicured lawns, the fences, the tents, the townsfolk…

Yes, Phisto and Athena were home.

For some years now, the Square had been their home. For a thousand more years, it had been home for the hunters – and now in the present, it was home to the researchers. Many of the old hunters had converted to the researcher business as Phisto had, so his days were never spent alone. Although Phisto and his many new friends had differences great and numerous, all of them loved monsters just as passionately as they had used to hunt them.

 _Sometimes,_ Phisto reflected, _it is funny how people's minds work_.

A decade or two ago, things in Mezeporta probably couldn't have been more different. Wistfully, he wondered if Loc Lac had changed at all from the monster-hunting days of the past.

But speaking of different…

"Hey buddy!" came the voice from behind him. "Phisto! _Phisto_!"

With a start, the Docks boy turned around and started at the sight of a grim-looking Guild official swiftly walking through the crowd toward him. There was a large Fire Halk following him, taking each step almost as confidently and as naturally as any human.

It was none other than Phisto's old friend Catry Bones, who had been with him ever since their banishment from Loc Lac. Instead of being a researcher, Catry served in the Hunter's Guild itself – he had never been one for taking notes and publishing scientific documents. The bright red wyvern with him was his own Halk companion, Brimstone.

"What's going on?" asked Phisto. He instantly noticed the expression on Catry's face and immediately knew that something was afoot.

"The Guild-Master wants to see you," Catry replied, panting slightly. "I was told that it's urgent. There are other researchers and officials already on their way."

Eyes widening, Phisto found his mind full of questions. Naturally, this was the case – a meeting with the Guild-Master was usually only reserved for the best in the Guild. He had no idea what business he, a young and relatively recent addition to the Guild, had with the old Wyverian.

"Come on," Catry said impatiently, already tugging on Phisto's Jaggi-skin gauntlet. "I'll take you to the Guild Hall. There's a Burukku carriage already waiting for us. There's no time to waste."

"S-Slow down!" stammered Phisto, stumbling after his friend.

Behind him, Athena chirped something to Brimstone, who just shook his head and scampered after his human master. A moment later, the Ice Halk followed suit.

As Catry had promised, there was a cart waiting for the two of them at the entrance to the mountain path to Mezeporta. Two Burukku were lashed to the front of the cart, peacefully grazing on the grass that grew close to the road. The buffalo-like herbivores were normally ill-tempered in the wild, but those that had been domesticated tended to be more docile, and were often used as beasts of burden by those of the Frontier.

"Ready to go?" Catry asked, smoothly hopping aboard the carriage. "C'mon, the Guild-Master won't want to be kept waiting."

Hesitantly, Phisto climbed on after his friend. "Why do you suppose he wants to see me? The Guild-Master, I mean? I'm just an ordinary, low-ranking researcher."

"Beats me," the Bones boy shrugged in reply. "Don't worry, he's not going to banish you like our old Guild-Master did. I hope."

 _Thanks for the vote of confidence,_ Phisto thought, but kept the sarcastic remark to himself.

Catry snapped the reins, and the Burukku started to move forward. Soon, they were on their way down the mountainous trail, their Halks tailing them from the sky above the narrow canyon.

Phisto spent the entire trip in silence. What business awaited him in the largest settlement of the Frontier, the city formerly known as Dondruma, monster-hunting capital of the world?

Whether he liked it or not, he was going to find out.

-.-.-.-.-.

It wasn't a long journey from the Square to the city. When the two teenagers arrived at the gates, they could tell they didn't have far to go until they reached the Guild Hall.

Despite the enormous concrete buildings that soared almost three dozen feet into the air – much higher than any in Mezeporta Square – finding the Guild Hall couldn't have been easier. All main roads in the city led directly toward it, and anyway, it was several stories higher than anything else in the vicinity.

The Guild Hall wasn't usually very crowded – despite its size, the main floor was typically almost empty, besides a couple of researchers and the Guild lady behind the counter at the back of the room. It was quite dim inside, despite the torches standing in various stations around the room and giving their fiery light. Researchers from Mezeporta Square came here occasionally, taking important quests from the huge bulletin board beside the counter… but the majority of the time, quests were delivered to the Square's own bulletin board, so most researchers didn't bother coming all the way here.

Needless to say, it was Phisto's first time inside the building.

"Athena," he said, turning to his wyvern friend, "you should go. Fly home. I'll be there shortly."

"You too, Brimstone," added Catry.

The Halk chirped, then jumped high into the air, spreading her wings and soaring through the door, back in the direction of Mezeporta Square. Brimstone followed her lead, and soon the two wyverns were vanishing into the cloudless blue sky.

Together, the two humans made their way through the door on the other side of the room, and began to climb the towering staircase that led to the upper floors. It was on these floors where most of the activity occurred, where the highest Guild officials regularly had their meetings.

It was an exhausting climb, but at last, Phisto and Catry made it. They stopped in front of a door, opened it, and were immediately greeted with an incredible sight.

The room was small, but not cramped, and not much brighter than the main floor. A single lantern hung from the ceiling, giving off just enough illumination to bring light to the entire room. Maps and charts covered almost every square inch of the walls, and detailed almost every known inch of the Frontier – even the most remote locations such as Solitude Island and White Lake. Markings on those maps indicated the presence of monster lairs, mostly those of apex predators.

Phisto squinted at one map, and saw that it showed one of his favorite sub-regions, the Highland. In several areas were green-colored blotches, each of them labeled "Gurenzeburu herd". Those two words were enough for Phisto – Gurenzeburus were brutal wyverns that guarded herds of native herbivores from other predators. Other differently-colored areas on the Highland map had labels such as "Hyujikiki breeding range" or "Kuarusepusu feeding ground".

Although the maps were fascinating, they were by no means the chamber's most important feature. In the center of the room was a long, rectangular table with ten seats, all of which were occupied by the officials that answered directly to the Guild-Master, the ones that made up Mezeporta's Council. At the front of the room was another table, slightly taller than the other, and this was where the Guild-Master himself sat.

The Guild-Master was an old Wyverian man, short and goblin-like in stature. His long white moustache and beard as well as his wrinkled grey skin gave him a very wise, almost noble look, and appearances weren't deceiving in this case. The Guild-Master had served as the leader of the Hunter's Guild for more than a hundred years, and had more experience under his belt than a hunter could shake a Longsword at. He was so short and stocky that in order to make himself seen, he sat on the edge of his desk instead of his chair.

The chair was occupied despite this. The Guild-Master's granddaughter, Caela – a young, pretty, almost human-like Wyverian – always sat there, just off to the side of her grandfather's perch so she could be seen, and her opinions voiced. Her pointed ears were always pricked high when she listened to what the officials had to say, usually with a furrowed brow and thoughtful expression. Unlike most rich girls in Mezeporta, Caela was humble, knowledgeable, and respectable. A real leader in the making.

Beside her, a huge Dragon Halk stood on a specially-crafted perch. The wyvern, whom the Guild-Master had named Algor, gazed at the gathered officials and researchers with surprising wisdom for a monster of its sort.

"Phisto Docks and Catry Bones," the Guild-Master rasped. "We are honored with your presence on this fine afternoon."

The rest of the Guild officials inclined their heads respectfully.

"Th-The honor is all ours, sir," Phisto stammered. Feeling awkward, he bowed quickly so that no-one could see his cheeks turn scarlet.

When he stood up again, he removed his leathery helmet and shook his hair free. Tall, and with a clean face, deep blue eyes, and slightly messy blond hair, Phisto was quite a handsome young man – even though he always responded to such praise with a modest blush.

Catry, following his friend's lead, removed the cap that was a part of his uniform. He, too, was rather good-looking, with a slightly more mature face framed by rich brown hair.

"So, what's this all about?" asked one of the Council members, an older man named Dozer.

The Guild-Master sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat – although it didn't help much. He rasped, "There's been another disappearance."

Everyone around the table gasped at this.

"A monster?" asked another official, Zald. "Or… a researcher?"

"Both," confirmed Caela, grimly. "We tagged a Chameleos last week. It'd be an understatement to call it a rare find, because elder dragons were already practically extinct before the war started. Anyway, this Chameleos just disappeared on us – and I don't mean 'disappeared' as in how Chameleoses usually disappear. It's just gone, tag and all."

"How could that be?" a third official demanded. Phisto recognized him as Mircon. "Monster tags don't just vanish into thin air. Come to think of it, neither do ordinary Paintballs, and they're not even the slightest bit radioactive."

The tags that Mircon was referring to were a new technology that had been recently developed for studying populations of endangered monster species. While Paintballs were a centuries-old way of tracking individual monsters by smell, 'monster tags' actually emitted harmless radiation that could be tracked via a special device. What was even more impressive was that the radiation was altered into a slightly different form when a specific monster was tagged with them, as if it reacted with their scales or something.

Phisto didn't understand the exact chemistry, but he had to admit that the monster tags and the tracking devices were amazing. But if they were wearing out somehow…

"Permission to speak, Guild-Master?" he piped up.

With a nod, the old Wyverian replied, "Go ahead, Mr. Docks."

His tone one of great uncertainty, Phisto voiced his theory aloud. "Could anything cause these monster tags to wear out, or something?"

"Doubtful, youngster," the Guild-Master replied with a ragged cough. "We're still looking into it, but so far, our scientists haven't found anything that could cause the radiation to be neutralized."

Dozer leaned forward and coughed politely. Both the Guild-Master and Caela turned to him, giving the official silent permission to speak his mind.

"And the other disappearance?" he prodded, quietly. "The researcher?"

There was silence for a very long time.

Finally, Caela sighed. "Lumis never came back from his mission," she stated.

There was another string of gasps from everyone present.

"Lumis?" Zald asked, wide-eyed. "The best researcher in the Guild? Didn't you send him to the Moga region to investigate the possible causes of Hurricane Yukumo? The terrible storm from five years ago?"

"We did indeed," the Guild-Master replied softly. "And the Guild-Master of Port Tanzia sent a message saying that he is confirmed as missing."

"The Moga region is a dangerous place," Catry mused, undoubtedly remembering the old days.

The memories came back to Phisto, too. More than enough images ran through his head to remind him how wonderful and deadly the diverse wildlife of Moga was.

"Even so," Caela sighed, "we thought that Lumis could handle the worst Moga had to offer him. Not even the possibility of encountering a rogue monster would deter him. When he left, we were absolutely positive that he'd come back."

"And he hasn't," concluded Dozer.

An unpleasant silence fell upon the table, so thick that Phisto could have cut it with a knife. The only noises came from Algor, who rustled his wings and shifted on his perch uncomfortably. He didn't seem to like the situation either, whether or not he could understand their language.

Suddenly, a thought popped into Phisto's mind. He mentally cursed himself, realizing that this should have been the first thing he had brought up. Making up his mind and deciding to speak it, he tapped on his chair for attention.

"Excuse me," he said, "but I don't know what my place in all this is. Why did you call me, of all people, here?"

"Ah yes," murmured the Guild-Master. "I understand you joined us only recently, and normally should have no business being involved in a meeting of such an important matter. But we realize that you had been assigned a mission to the Swamp, and had just come back today – and thus, I was wondering if you knew anything of our Chameleos' disappearance."

Sadly, Phisto shook his head.

"That's disappointing," Caela sighed, again.

Her remark caused an uncomfortable twinging sensation in Phisto's chest, accompanied by what felt like guilt. It was as if his heart was flinching. He knew what it was, of course – he had had a slight crush on the pretty Wyverian for as long as he had been working for the Guild. Being such a failure to her in this way crushed him, pardon the pun.

"B-But," the researcher continued anew, trying to be useful. "I think I might have discovered a new monster."

Boy, did _that_ get their attention quickly.

"What?" demanded Dozer.

"You couldn't have mentioned this earlier?" added Zald.

The other officials started speaking all at once, in a barrage of different voices that only succeeded in discouraging Phisto.

"Please," Caela ordered. Her soft voice had turned sharp, easily slicing through the banter. "Give him a chance to speak." She turned her gaze to the researcher in question and gave him an encouraging nod.

Sparing the young Wyverian a somewhat giddy smile, the Docks boy launched into his description of the beast he had encountered. When he was finished, everyone was silent once again as their minds silently processed all that they had been told.

"That…" began the Guild-Master, "was an incredible description for someone who hasn't been in this business for very long, as you have. But tell me, you said that this monster was completely unknown?"

"I've never even heard of anything remotely similar to it," Phisto confirmed.

"Then we must investigate this matter immediately," Caela decided, earning herself an approving nod from her grandfather. "This creature's presence in the Swamp may be connected to our Chameleos' disappearance."

"This calls for an expedition," the Guild-Master decreed. "It's been a long time since I visited the Swamp. I see no reason not to accompany my Council into the field."

Excitedly, Phisto and Catry exchanged glances. The Council didn't just sit down in this dim room and run the Guild from there – they were some of the best researchers in the entire Frontier, and routinely went on urgent missions across the region. It had been Dozer, Zald, Mircon, and the rest that had first boarded the Large Exploration Ship and set out to explore the Sky Corridor many years ago, although they hadn't succeeded.

And then, to Phisto's shock, someone placed a hand on Phisto's shoulder. It was Dozer.

"Find us that monster," he insisted. "We're going on an expedition, and you're going to lead the way."

Phisto couldn't help but swell slightly with pride.

For the first time since he was banished and had retired from the hunter business, he was going to lead the hunt. The hunt for knowledge.

-.-.-.-.-.

After the Council members had been dismissed, Caela and the Guild-Master sat alone in the chamber. For a moment, neither of them spoke, too wrapped up in their own thoughts to say them aloud.

"I know there's another reason you brought Phisto here," Caela finally broke the silence, casting an imploring look at her grandfather.

He merely nodded.

"Why?" she pressed.

"I wanted to see if the boy was ready," he told her. "He was only a young'un when he first stumbled through the gates, battered and bloodied, with his friend supporting him every step of the way. He's been picking mushrooms and watching Nulberries grow because I couldn't send him out to study wyverns without knowing if he was up for it."

"He was sixteen when he came here," Caela pointed out. "It's only been two, almost three, years since then."

The Guild-Master ignored that. "You remember what I told you the day after I had that horrible vision. One of the dreams I had was of that very child dragging himself into Mezeporta."

"So you believe he's important in some way," his granddaughter said.

"I _know_ he's important," he corrected. "I saw him the same way I saw the Garuba Daora attack our Large Exploration Ship, the same way I saw the dark spirits flying before my eyes, and the same way I saw the awakening of an elder dragon. Phisto, whomever he is, has a destiny connected in some way to the fate of the very world we share."

Caela grew silent. She knew that the Guild-Master's visions were not of just any day-to-day occurrences. When he saw something, it was a major event – and more than that, he was never wrong. If something presented itself to him, it _would_ happen.

Of course, that had disturbing implications.

"You saw Phisto arrive a long time before he really did," she spoke softly. "And you must know what that means. It can only mean that the dragon you saw, the roar you heard…"

"Will be seen and heard for real eventually," the Guild-Master finished for her. Suddenly, he doubled over in a fit of furious coughing. When he had caught his breath again, he inhaled deeply and began anew, "Caela, my dear, we must complete work on the new Large Exploration Ship at once."

Her eyelids flying open at how quickly and drastically he changed the subject, Caela at first fumbled for a response. She at last opened her mouth and blurted, "What? How can you think of the expedition to the Sky Corridor at a time like this? No, we need to prepare for when your terrible visions become reality!"

The Guild-Master's expression was grim, but a reluctant smile soon spread across his wizened face. "Precisely the reason why we must reach the Sky Corridor before they do. According to legend, there's a powerful artifact hidden somewhere within the tower that may be what we need."

Now Caela gasped. "You're not talking about… the Eye of Fatalis?"

Instead of answering her directly, the Guild-Master turned toward the back of the room, where a painting of the Sky Corridor hung in the center of the wall. The canvas depicted a tall, dark obelisk looming out from the foggy ocean.

Softly, the elderly Wyverian rasped, "The Eye of Fatalis is what we will need, Caela. Not too long ago, it was stolen by an individual who wished to conquer the Great Continent. It was destroyed and pieced back together by the Ancestor, and was brought back to its proper place. I think it is time for its power to be used once more, for its original purpose."

At the back of his mind, the words from five years ago repeated themselves in his mind:

" _Who is it that just got free? Sins Deadly!_ "

Whatever his visions had told him, he felt that now was the time to start acting on them. In his aging heart, he knew that, out there, unspeakable things were happening. An elder dragon was stirring from sleep, the Gogmazios was searching for another meal, and seven deadly spirits were lying in wait for the perfect moment to finish what they started – the Day of Destruction.

And, although it was not clear how, Phisto would play an important role in all of this.

"Caela," the Guild-Master spoke again, "we will go on this mission to the Swamp to find the new monster Phisto described. When we return, Phisto will help us prepare for the inevitable return to the Sky Corridor. And, hopefully, we will kill two Kelbi with one Switch Axe when we arrive."

Slowly, the young woman smiled. "Make the discovery of a lifetime… and find the Eye of Fatalis, saving the world… from what, exactly?"

When the Guild-Master's face turned dark, Caela's smile faded. The otherwise empty room seemed to grow colder, and anticipation hung over them, like the air itself was waiting for his reply. She could tell that the next words to come from his mouth would not be pleasant.

"The Seven Deadly Sins," he whispered. "Five years ago, they returned, and they are without a doubt plotting to wipe us out once and for all."

-.-.-.-.-.

 **So I bet some of you are wondering about the super-weird names going on in this story. They're, like, Pokemon XD-level weird. Well, there's no particular reason why I'm using such odd names, except for the fact that my past MH fanfics have always had strangely-named characters.**

 **If you have questions about anything, readers, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be happy to lay any confusion to rest.**

 **Review, if you will. The next chapter will be soon.**


	5. Shocking Shapeshift

_**Chapter 5 – Shocking Shapeshift**_

-.-.-.-.-.

Night had fallen over the dismal sub-region known as the Swamp. The caves were pitch-black, but fortunately the creatures that still crawled through the freezing-cold tunnels had superior senses that allowed them to navigate their lightless domain.

It was around midnight when something discovered the unconscious Baruragaru.

The clicking of jointed legs echoed through the large cavern as a new presence entered. Its strides were calm, methodical, and efficient, the footsteps of a creature out for a relaxing stroll. But that stopped as soon as it smelled the blood – not fresh exactly, but the unmistakable scent of a kill that had been made not too long ago. Better yet, the creature couldn't feel the vibrations of any large predators around.

At that precise moment, the clouds in the sky slid apart to let the moon shine through. The moonlight flowed through the windows in the ceiling and brought a dim, silvery illumination to the cave. Out of the shadows the creature emerged, and paused when it encountered a beam of light, waiting for its primitive eyes to adjust to the change. The light washed over its black exoskeleton and beautiful white crystals, revealing it to be an Akura Jebia – a massive scorpion-like carapaceon that stalked the Swamp with no equal.

The Akura hissed and raised its pincers, snapping them to warn away any smaller monsters nearby. Just because it couldn't feel them didn't mean they weren't there. It cocked its head, standing eerily still as it waited for vibrations to disturb the sensitive hairs on its legs. Feeling none, it continued toward the tempting scent of a potential meal.

When it was close enough, the Akura Jebia's weak eyes finally caught sight of what it sought. It paused, regarding the strange monster's pale skin and overall body shape. It had never seen such a thing before. What was it? Was it dead? More importantly, was it edible?

Upon walking closer, the smell of blood suddenly grew stronger. The Akura Jebia noted that the ground was covered with the stuff, and was more greatly concentrated around the possibly-dead monster's leg.

It towered over the odd creature that lay in the mud. Hesitantly, the carapaceon reached out with a pincer and lightly tapped its flank. When hard chitin made contact with squishy skin, the Akura scuttled backwards a pace or two, in case the monster retaliated. But there was no movement, so it poked it once more.

This time, the creature's long tongue, which stretched out from between its slackened jaws, wiggled a little. Similarly, its tail twitched, and a soft gurgle curled into the stale cavern air.

So the unknown monster was alive, just weak. The Akura could handle that. It raised its crystalline tail, ready to bash the remaining life out of its prey in one fell swoop.

Then it felt a tingle.

Stiffening, the Akura Jebia dared not move a muscle as the feeling intensified. There was no way it could be mistaken as a simple vibration, the product of another monster stirring the air around it. No, this was a feeling that the Akura felt in its bones (well, if it _had_ bones), an unnatural force that no monster had any business meddling with.

There was magic here. _Strong_ magic.

A terrible squeal echoed through the cave as the Akura fled. It dug its way through the mud until it had disappeared entirely. Soon, the tip of its tail had been swallowed by the saturated earth, leaving only a few small crystals behind.

Above the ground, the lucky Baruragaru stirred again as the magic in the air intensified further.

-.-.-.-.-.

Right outside an entrance to the caves, where the moon shone down on the filthy Swamp through the gaps in the clouds, someone was waiting.

Keyren impatiently tapped her foot on the ground, ignoring the squishy sounds that occurred whenever her boot met the soggy grass. She had told Melody and Gekula to meet her here at sunset – and that had been more than three hours ago. Anyone else would have been worried, but no, Keyren was simply annoyed. The monsters here wouldn't dare go after one of them, so there was no way her partners could have been attacked by one. No, there was absolutely no excuse for their lateness.

"Oh, one of these days…" the girl grumbled, starting to pace back and forth in front of the cave entrance. "One of these days I'm going to kick their tails. Or maybe roast their wings off. For Fatalis' sake, Duruhos, team me up with someone who actually has a sense of time!"

She continued to mutter to herself as she moved swiftly over the grassy landscape. This portion of the Swamp was slightly more pleasant because of the trees and the relative lack of mud, but it was also very cold at night, and the crickets were far too noisy. Neither the temperature nor the incessant chirping were helping Keyren's mood.

More or less, Keyren resembled an average teenage girl. She had a slim, athletic build and a cherubic face, making her look cute but tough. She wore a pale blue shirt that was cropped just below her chest, exposing her midriff, and a pair of similarly-cut pants. Her boots were nothing special, just regular Kelbi hide that had been significantly worn by the elements.

The difference between Keyren and most teenaged girls, though? She happened to be a Lagiacrus.

A hole in the back of her shorts allowed a muscular blue tail to lash freely behind her. Several more holes in her shirt accommodated six large dorsal spines that extended out of her back. Instead of hair, Keyren had a hard blue shell that swept over her head and down her neck, producing a cobra-like hood that flared open on either side. Scaly ridges over her eyes took the place of eyebrows, while her fingernails were more comparable to needle-sharp claws. Two brownish-red horns rose up over her head.

Yes, Keyren was an unusual case. She didn't fit in among humans or monsters – instead, she was a freakish mix between the two, a hybrid of sorts that had come into existence through some one-in-a-million anomaly. One day, she was the undisputed ruler of the sea, a sixty-foot sea serpent with pinpoint control over electricity. She had been sunbathing on the coast of Moga Island, chill as could be, when all of a sudden…

… she was stuck in a humanoid body, with no memory of the transformation except for the feeling of magic surrounding her. Days had gone by before her new human instincts took over, and when they did, language and locomotion came naturally to her. But inside, she knew that _none_ of it was natural. Lagiacri weren't meant to walk on two legs or manipulate things with a pair of hands. The worst part was that other monsters were terrified of her, because raw magic lingered in the air around her, as if her very existence was a contradiction to reality.

But Keyren was by no means alone. She was far from it, in fact, and the event that had caused her transformation was anything but rare.

Because all over the Great Continent, monsters were changing exactly as she had.

"Where are the others?" the impatient Lagiacrus-girl yelled up at the sky. "Melody! Gekula! Get the hell over here before I shock the living daylights out of you!"

Under normal circumstances, shouting wasn't good for solving problems, and Keyren was well aware of that. To her surprise, though, this time it worked. With a flutter of wings, Melody appeared in front of her, grinning so hard that her cheeks were stained pink.

The Qurupeco-girl wore a simple green T-shirt with a big red patch on the front, as well as a pair of shorts and a large flower in her shiny brown hair. Her legs were human from the knees up, but below that they were covered in brown scales and very bird-like. Large green wings stretched from her back on either side of her, and her heart-shaped tail wagged eagerly.

"I was looking for you!" Melody announced, beaming. "That's when I heard you shouting. Goodness, do you always yell at yourself like that?"

" _You_ were looking for _me_?" exploded Keyren. She grabbed the other hybrid by the front of her shirt and bellowed in her face, " _You were supposed to meet me here three hours ago_!"

For a moment, Melody was very startled, and the pink tinge on her cheeks drained away. Then the huge smile was back on her face, and she replied, "Oopsie! I must have forgot that!"

At this point, Keyren was so mad that electric sparks were starting to jump across her dorsal spines. She let the Qurupeco-girl go, and instead clutched at her head with a highly aggravated groan. After a few seconds, the anger faded, and she regained control of herself.

"Did you find anything, at least?" she asked.

Melody shook her head. "Nope! Nothing since that Chameleos hybrid from a few days ago."

Shrugging, Keyren replied in a careless tone, "Well, at least our time in the Swamp is pretty much at an end. We can head back home and rest for a while before we go scouting again."

"Hey, where's Gekula?" Melody chirped, looking around. Her head jerked this way and that, like a bird's. "Didn't you ask him to meet here too?"

Hearing the name brought Keyren back into a bad mood. "Yes," she growled. "But who cares about him? Out of all the people Duruhos could have paired me with, he _has_ to pick the one I hate the most!"

"Aww, don't be that way," her companion pouted. "Gekula isn't that bad."

Snorting skeptically, Keyren began to walk toward the half-hidden entrance to the caves, which was choked with damp grass and weeds. Some days, she couldn't take Melody's overly optimistic attitude seriously. She never met a hybrid she didn't like. It was enough to drive Keyren over the edge on a bad day. And so far, today was shaping up to be one.

Then a face suddenly loomed out of the darkness of the cave entrance, unexpectedly enough to make the Lagiacrus-girl shriek like a Yian Kut-Ku.

It was a Khezu-boy, that much was clear. His mop of thick white hair flopped over most of his face, completely obscuring his eyes. The facial features that _could_ be seen would have been better off hidden, too – he had only a couple of holes where his nose should have been, and his mouth was full of sharp, crooked teeth. Per hand, he only had three fingers tipped with dirty, claw-like fingernails. He wore a heavily-stained turtleneck and baggy pants over his wiry frame.

"You… bellowed for me, Keyren?" the Khezu-boy asked with a snicker.

Once Keyren had gotten over her fright, her blood pressure skyrocketed.

" _GEKULA!_ " she roared. "You know I can't see in the dark! Why would you do something like that?!"

After a moment of thought, Gekula shrugged and replied, "Eh, call it a mean streak."

Melody patted her hands together. "Yay, everyone's here~! Did you find anything, Gekula?"

The blind hybrid jumped at the sound of her voice, then took a breath through his nostrils. Gekula may not have been able to see, but his sense of smell was phenomenal. Once he had caught the Qurupeco-girl's scent, he relaxed now that he knew she was there.

"Nothing," he replied. "But I was going to take another lap around the caverns just to make sure. You're… welcome to join me," he added, snickering again.

This was exactly what no-one liked about Gekula. He was always lurking about with that smug smirk on his half-covered face, occasionally giggling to himself as if he knew something the others didn't. Keyren hated him. Keyren's friends hated him. Pretty much everybody hated him.

Except Melody, obviously.

"Yeah, no thanks," the Lagiacrus-girl snapped, lashing her tail in anger. "You can go crawling around with your fellow giant insects without us. I'll be here, trying to resist the temptation to leave without you."

"Scared, Keyren?" chuckled Gekula. His lips parted to show his crooked teeth in an unpleasant grin.

"I don't _get_ scared!" she shouted. "And if you doubt that, I'll prove it!"

Her expression the very picture of rage, Keyren stormed past him and entered the cave, being swallowed by the darkness as soon as she stepped inside.

With a sigh, Gekula turned to Melody. "She'll never change, will she?"

"I like her just the way she is~!" she chirped.

"Torch?" he prompted her, picking a large tree branch off of the ground.

Taking the stick out of his hands, Melody hocked up a wad of slimy green mucus that stuck to the tip. Then, she brought her wings down and bashed them together in a clapping motion. The special flintstones that adorned her wings produced several hot sparks, which ignited the mucus and turned the branch into a well-burning torch.

"There!" she exclaimed. "Now we're all ready to continue our search!"

And then something happened.

A howling scream echoed from deep in the tunnels. The sound was equal parts fear and anger, which set the two hybrids' monster instincts on edge.

Melody let out a squawk. "I-I think that was Keyren!"

Trembling, and resisting the urge to run and hide, Gekula responded, "B-But why? Monsters are scared of us, remember? It's like they know we aren't supposed to exist."

"I don't care!" cried Melody. "I'm sure Keyren made that scream, so she must be in terrible danger!"

Not another word was exchanged as the two hybrids forced themselves to ignore their instincts and ran into the cave. Even though she had a short temper and yelled a lot, the Lagiacrus-girl was their friend, and their partner on this scouting mission. In this new world – a world where humans no longer hunted, where magic ran amok, and where monsters transformed into twisted mutants – hybrids needed to stick together, because they would otherwise have no-one.

So that was why Keyren was in danger until Melody and Gekula could find her.

But, little did they know, Keyren wasn't the one who had screamed.

-.-.-.-.-.

All was still when the Baruragaru finally rose from unconsciousness. It blearily blinked its eyes, its mind swimming with confusion and surprise. Why wasn't it dead? Had it really lived after encountering the Two-Legs that had damaged its leg?

The leviathan tried to move its tail. After a couple of tries, it finally felt the appendage brush weakly across the muddy ground. Satisfied, it grunted to itself and slid its tongue out into the air, tasting its surroundings. It tasted the air again, just in case its sleep-addled brain misinterpreted the results.

A little groggily, it concluded with some relief that it was alone. It was fine with being alone.

Next, it tried to move its limbs. The leg that had been injured responded to the movement with a dull ache, but otherwise there was no reaction. That was odd. Surely, its wound couldn't have healed that quickly?

A spasm coursed through the Baruragaru's body as it attempted to right itself. Immediately, though, it sensed that something wasn't right. With effort, it rolled onto its belly and positioned its legs so that it could push itself into a standing position, but the placement of its limbs felt… awkward. It could feel its knees digging into the mud and its elbows tucked up against its belly.

"Sssss…" it hissed, irritated. Its stupid limbs felt too long for its body.

Another attempt to reorient its back legs ended up with its knees touching the ground and its feet dragging behind it. Now its posterior was sticking up in the air, and its tail lashed with annoyance. The Baruragaru then tried to position its front legs so that its shoulders were level with its hips, and it ended up with its paws pressed into the dirt with an enormous empty space between its belly and the ground.

What was going on here?!

Staring into the darkness ahead of it, the Baruragaru instantly caught sight of a shaft of moonlight pouring down from a hole in the ceiling. The silvery light illuminated a pool of water that had yet to be absorbed into the saturated soil, and the Baruragaru slowly shuffled its way over as best as it could. Maybe if it could examine itself in the water, it could figure out what was wrong.

It flicked out its tongue again, getting a better understanding of how far away the pool was. But it noticed something… it crossed its eyes, focusing on its extended tongue. How odd… the tip had changed into a greyish, razor-sharp point. It shivered, put off by what it did not understand.

Soon, the moonlight was washing over the hideous monster's body, and the puddle was only a few inches away. Dread was starting to swim in its heart. It couldn't help but notice that the cavern looked a lot bigger than before, when it had been attacked by the Two-Legs and the Hawk-Thing. It promptly increased its pace as much as it could without falling over on its strange new placement of limbs, eager to gaze at its reflection and see what was going on.

At last, its head hovered over the water, and a pair of orange eyes gazed into another. But what it saw was almost enough to make its heart stop beating.

It was looking at the face of a Two-Legs.

A horrible howl carried through the freezing tunnels, the awful sound born of despair, anger… and fear.

-.-.-.-.-.

"Hurry!" called Melody, half-flying and half-running through the pitch-black caves by the light of her torch. "The scream came from somewhere down here!"

Gekula was with her, but he was not beside her. Instead, he used his uncanny climbing abilities to scale the walls and ceiling, following Melody's progress on the cave floor with startling swiftness. No wyvern was better than a Khezu when it came to defying gravity.

The tunnel abruptly closed in around the pair of hybrids, forming a narrow passageway barely big enough for them to walk side-by-side. Gekula dropped down to the ground on all fours, simply unable to climb comfortably in such a tight space. He picked himself up and followed behind Melody, sniffing for any sign of Keyren.

But neither of them needn't have worried, because when they rounded the next bend in the tunnel, they almost ran right into the Lagiacrus-girl. Her face appeared so suddenly when the torchlight illuminated it, Melody couldn't help but let out a loud squeak.

"Will you be quiet?!" Keyren ordered. "We could be discovered if you make too much noise, so shut it!"

Frowning, Gekula tilted his head and said, "We thought that scream was from you."

"What gave you _that_ idea?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"So," Melody began, then hastily lowered her voice when Keyren glared daggers at her, "so if it wasn't you, then that must mean there's another hybrid here."

"That's what I thought," Keyren whispered fiercely. "We're going to get him –"

"Or her," interrupted Melody.

Shooting her another glare, Keyren finished, "…him or her and then get out of here."

"Good," said Gekula, mostly to himself. "I'm starting to get sick of these scouting missions."

A short span of silence ensued, and the Khezu-boy's words hung heavy in the air around them. No-one wanted to admit it, but they couldn't help but agree with him. Scouting was an important job, no doubt, but after weeks of being away from home, they wanted nothing more than for it to end.

"We can take a break after we leave the Swamp," muttered Keyren. "Let's get this hybrid first, whoever he – or she – is, and then we can afford to relax. But for now, let's make like a Tetsucabra and hop to it."

"Yes, fearless leader," Gekula replied with some sarcasm.

The trio cautiously made their way onward, slowly but surely making their way down the tunnel and toward the cave they knew was on the other side. There hadn't been any other noise from the mysterious screaming creature for a few minutes now, but everyone was certain that they were getting close to its whereabouts.

Finally, the light of Melody's torch ceased to illuminate the walls around them. Without a doubt, they were inside a much larger cavern, one whose boundaries were too far apart to be lit. Fortunately, moonlight shone through cracks in the ceiling, providing additional, however dim, lighting. It seemed colder in here, and the boggy soil in here was partially hidden by swirling mist.

But, most importantly, there was something different about this chamber. A feeling of… wrongness, a feeling that there was something here that shouldn't be.

"You feel that…?" whispered Gekula.

"It's close," replied Melody. She shivered all of a sudden, and wrapped her wings around herself. "Good thing, too, 'cause I'm _really_ cold…"

A *splat* came from off to the right, somewhere where the shadows were thickest. Before the hybrids could ask themselves about the source, more sounds followed, as well as a quiet slither.

"It's definitely in here with us," Keyren said, taking up a defensive position. Her spines glowed faintly, ready to discharge an electric blast if they were attacked.

There was another *splat* from a different part of the cave. Whatever it was, it was keeping to the shadows, and remaining on the move so that they couldn't guess its position.

"Sssss…"

Melody gulped. "You hear that?"

Indeed they did – a sibilant hiss that chilled the blood. And it was coming from yet another part of the cave.

A low growl came from Keyren's throat. "Brace yourselves, you two. I'm going to flush this thing out of hiding, and it's going to cause some collateral damage."

Without giving either of her companions time to reply, the Lagiacrus-girl planted her feet apart and cupped her hands. Her spines glowed more intensely, and a ball of electricity started to form in between her palms. Melody and Gekula had only just enough time to run for cover before Keyren launched the crackling orb at the ceiling.

An explosion rocked the cave, and huge rocks tumbled down to further shake the earth. When things calmed down, a massive hole had been torn in the ceiling, allowing light to flood almost the entire chamber.

Now that all but the farthest corners were exposed, the unknown creature was revealed – and it was a hybrid unlike any they had ever seen.

-.-.-.-.-.

 **Cliffhangers, am I right?**

 **So, this chapter introduces some of the main characters of this fanfic. The story shall henceforth focus on the hybrids and their adventures – but don't worry, you'll still be seeing a lot more of Phisto.**

 **If you have questions about anything, readers, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be happy to lay any confusion to rest.**

 **Send reviews, and stay tuned for the next chapter!**


	6. Due Departure

_**Chapter 6 – Due Departure**_

-.-.-.-.-.

Keyren, Melody, and Gekula stood wide-eyed in front of the strangest creature they had ever seen – or, well, Keyren and Melody did. But the blind Gekula certainly seemed equally as shocked.

He was clearly a hybrid. Taking the form of a teenage human boy with abnormally monstrous features, there was no way he could be mistaken for anything else. But still, you could usually tell what kind of hybrid someone was simply by giving them a once-over. In this case, though, the new hybrid's identity was a mystery.

First and foremost, he wore a plain grey shirt and pants, the latter of which that dragged through the mud. He had a long, slimy tail that moved in a rippling motion. His arms were outstretched, revealing fingers adorned with blunt, claw-like nails. He had bright red fins sticking out of his hair, a pair over his eyes in place of eyebrows, and another pair on his arms. The eyes were a pair of burning orange lights that were just brimming with hostility. Finally, the hybrid's mouth opened in a snarl, allowing a creepily long tongue to slither out and wave in the air in front of him.

Also, the mysterious hybrid boy's posture was unusual. He stood on two feet, but he was bent over with his arms dangling in front of him, like he still had the urge to crawl on four legs even after his transformation. His frightful orange gaze never wavered from the three in front of him.

"Whoa there, there's no need to be scared of us," said Keyren, recognizing the newcomer's defensive stance. "We're not here to harm you, get it?"

Unfortunately, he didn't. He retracted his tongue and let out a ghostly howl. "HUWAAAAAAAWGH!"

Immediately, Melody jumped backwards in fear.

"What is he?" Gekula wondered aloud. "I've never smelled anything quite like him before."

"You're on to something," Keyren admitted, hesitantly. "I… I don't think a monster like him has ever been seen on the Great Continent."

"Really?" asked Melody. "I saw the tongue and thought he was just another, although really ugly, Chameleos."

The unknown hybrid howled again, various fins pricking up with agitation, and this time ejected a blast of purple poison from his mouth. It flew right over the Qurupeco-girl's head when she ducked, and it struck a random Vespoid instead. The neopteron promptly disintegrated.

"Not a Chameleos," confirmed Keyren. "Nor any monster any of us have heard of. This hybrid… he's something new."

Bending down a little lower, the hybrid's hands brushed the ground as he backed away, going into a more defensive stance. He never took his evil orange eyes off of the trio, and his tongue never entirely retracted, as if it were a sword he was uncomfortable with sheathing.

In truth, the Baruragaru didn't know what to think of these strange newcomers. At first glance, they looked almost exactly like the Two-Legs – stick-thin limbs, squishy-looking faces, ridiculous tufts of fur on their heads. But when he looked closer, he saw wings, scales, claws, tails… all the features that separated monsters from Two-Legs. Features that made monsters powerful, and Two-Legs weak.

So if they weren't monsters, and if they weren't more Two-Legs, what were they? Some new threat that didn't exist in the Baruragaru's homeland, across the Big Water?

And judging by appearance alone, the Baruragaru was now one of them.

No. No, that wasn't right. He was a powerful monster, a horror that lurked in the dark, whose name was a symbol of fear. He was a Baruragaru – not a 'boy', not a 'hybrid', not any of those words that they called him.

But the strange, complex language they spoke… he could understand most of it. Including the insults. He hissed at the Winged Female, daring her to speak ill of him again.

"He doesn't like me," Melody whimpered. She looked heartbroken, like she had never before met another being that didn't like her.

"My guess is that he just transformed," Gekula mused. "He's not used to having human instincts yet. He's confused, and possibly frightened. He doesn't know what we are, or what he is."

Frightened? How _dare_ the Pale One assume he was so cowardly? By pure instinct, the Baruragaru used his elongated limbs to pounce forward, the razor-sharp tip of his tongue aimed at the Pale One's heart.

There was a crackle and a sudden blue light, and the Pale One's fist was clutching his tongue. He screeched with agony as a terrible pain shot down the appendage and throughout the rest of his body.

"That's right," muttered Gekula. "Don't touch a Khezu, freak show."

He let go, and the hybrid collapsed. His body shivered as the electricity died out, and he became still.

"Do we have to bring him back?" Keyren protested. "I'm sure Duruhos will understand, since this thing will probably try to kill him at the drop of a tooth."

Melody let out a very loud gasp, as if the Lagiacrus-girl had suggested something unspeakable. "We can't leave him here for the humans to discover! Everything we've been carefully putting together will be destroyed if they find out about us! We're not _ready_ to make contact with humans yet! You _know_ that!"

"OKAY, OKAY!" shouted Keyren. "Don't get your damn tail in a knot! We'll bring Swamp Boy back."

The Baruragaru stirred, no longer feeling any pain. There was no way he'd be antagonizing the Pale One anytime in the near future. So instead, he slipped closer to the Blue Female. She was loud and acted aggressively, so she was probably strong and would offer him protection. For some odd reason, the Baruragaru also found her appealing to look at – the way her figure curved around the chest and hips, in particular, was a trait he found alluring.

At this point, Keyren caught him looking up in fascination at her, and she chuckled. "Between Melody's comments and Gekula's… shocking personality, I think I'm the only one he likes right now."

"Give it an hour," the Khezu-boy snickered. "The more he gets to know you, the less he'll like you."

She swatted him for the insensitive remark. He just grinned that snaggletooth grin of his.

"Come on, guys, stop messing around," Melody said, her voice serious for once. "We're scouts, and it's our job to bring hybrids back to our community so that they can have a home. We've traveled all over the Great Continent for several years now, and now we've found a hybrid who's nothing like anyone has ever seen!"

Nobody noticed, but the Baruragaru cocked his head and regarded the Winged Female curiously. The passion with which she spoke was nothing short of fascinating…

"Someday, when we're ready," continued Melody, "we'll make peace with the humans and finally find a place in this world to call our own. And the only way we can do that is if we scout out the Great Continent and bring all the hybrids back to our community, so we can be ready! It's our job to help prepare for the great destiny we share!"

With a snort, Keyren muttered, "Drama queen."

"Duruhos sent us out on this mission because he thinks we can't do anything else," Gekula added, losing his signature smirk. "The fact that he sent an Elite with us only proves that. He can't trust us enough to do something without supervision."

Slowly, the Baruragaru started to settle down. It didn't really seem like the three in front of him had any intention of harming him… but still, he'd keep his guard up in case they suddenly remembered he was there…

Being trusting got you nowhere in this world, and the Baruragaru wasn't about to start.

"No, no!" the Qurupeco-girl exclaimed. "You've got it all wrong! Our leader sees great potential in us! Our mission is super-important! I mean, if we don't get to the hybrids before the humans do…"

She trailed off, and noticed that everyone else – including the mystery hybrid – was merely staring at her blankly. Their disbelief in her words was crystal-clear.

Melody sighed, and slowly began to walk away from them, only to stop when she was a fair distance from the group. Her back to them, she bowed her head as if in reverence.

"She's going to sing again, isn't she…" muttered Keyren.

Putting a hand over her heart, Melody indeed began to sing. Her voice rang out, solemn and pure, and the words flowed together harmoniously. Despite themselves, Keyren and Gekula were enraptured by the Qurupeco-girl's song…

" _Yes, we're very important monsters,_

 _Deceptively brave and strong!_

 _Just watch as we do something right,_

 _When the two of you think we're wrong._

 _We'll go make Duruhos proud, yes._

 _He did give us a chance to see_

 _That the ones who will bring us harmony_

 _Are the very important we!_ "

Melody spread her wings and took flight to the tip of a stalagmite that stretched almost to the ceiling, facing away from the group with her arms and wings spread in a dramatic posture. With a deep breath, she continued her song with even more passion than before…

" _We're fabulous, fearsome monsters_

 _That handle life with finesse!_

 _How do they know what we can't do?_

 _They've just put us to the test._

 _We were born to unite the peoples!_

 _That is our destiny!_

 _Why do they hesitate, not congratulate_

 _The very important we?_ "

Gliding down from her perch, Melody spun around and smoothly slid over to her friends.

" _It's obvious we're made for this!_

 _Our unity's essential!_ "

Keyren snorted and crossed her arms, looking skeptical.

" _If only she'd stop saying that,_

 _She's getting far too much credential._ "

Melody took her by the hands and looked her in the eyes.

" _Look at our skills! We're not that weak!_ "

Gekula chimed in next.

" _In fact, you could say we're quite unique!_ "

Tearing her hands away from Melody's, Keyren added a few grumpy words.

" _If you don't stop singing, I'm going to freak._ "

Deciding to ignore her friend's skepticism, the Qurupeco-girl spread her wings again and took off once again, soaring in an elegant circle around the group. She noticed the unknown hybrid staring at her with curiosity, and she let a smile cross her face as she sang the next verse.

" _We have a very important mission,_

 _A truly impressive quest!_

 _We can't possibly do them any harm,_

 _Because we want what's best!_

 _And when we finally prove ourselves,_

 _Then at last they'll see…_ "

Gekula:

" _How lucky they are to know…_ "

Keyren:

" _Those who brought them from down below…_ "

Melody:

" _Oh, respect they'll finally show…_

 _The very important,_

 _Very important,_

 _Very important we!_ "

Altogether, the trio finished with a rousing finish of…

" _The very important we!_ "

-.-.-.-.-.

It certainly hadn't been long since Phisto had left the Swamp with the memory of the terrifying leviathan fresh in his mind. And now, he was already returning to find it again, for the benefit of the Guild.

Via Burukku-drawn cart, the journey to the edge of the Swamp had been much faster than his previous travel on foot. The expedition included him, Catry, Caela, Mircon, Zald, and Dozer, and of course the Guild-Master himself. They had enough supplies for several days in the field, including things like Mega Potions and Hot Drinks in case of emergencies. All of them except the Guild-Master and Caela carried weapons.

"How much farther to the caves?" Catry asked, casually sharpening the edge of his Great Sword. "My backside is starting to get sore from this bumpy ride."

Phisto silently winced when he saw what his friend was doing. Watching the Bones boy taking care of his old weapon like that was enough to remind him of _his_ old weapon. Back in Loc Lac, he had owned a pair of Dual Blades made from Gigginox hide. A couple of months after he had been banished, he had lost them in a dreadful battle with a wild monster. Sure, his new Carmine Blade was an awesome weapon in and of itself, but it still wasn't as comfortable as the light, sharp swords that he had once wielded with great skill.

"It won't be long now," he replied, pushing the memories away. "It took me maybe a day and a half to walk from the cavern to Mezeporta Square, so we should be getting close at the speed we're traveling."

"Thank goodness," said Mircon, shuddering. "I never liked the Swamp. I've explored every inch of the Frontier, from the freezing Polar Sea to the barren Solitude Island, but no sub-region gives me the willies quite like this one."

Zald added, "And now, according to Phisto, we've got an unpleasant new neighbor on the loose."

The Guild-Master cleared his throat. "Speaking of which, my boy," he coughed huskily, "but I have been meaning to tell you something."

The Docks boy blinked, and uncertainly replied, "Well, um… tell away, sir."

"I've discussed this with the other officials," the Guild-Master continued, "and they all agreed to go along with it. To state it plainly, Mr. Docks… I would like to invite you on the next expedition to the Sky Corridor."

His mouth fell open.

"Shocked, I see," chuckled Dozer.

 _To put it mildly!_ Phisto thought.

This was far too shocking – no, world-shattering. Him, a mere teenager that had never made an important discovery in his short researching career (apart from the new monster, of course), journey to the Sky Corridor?! The mysterious tower that rose from the uncharted mists in the middle of the ocean, said to be packed with ancient treasure and artifacts? The legendary obelisk that was said to be the key to understanding the lost civilization that had died out with the rise of humankind thousands of years ago?

And most shocking of all, it wasn't only the Guild-Master and Dozer. Caela and the other officials were nodding amiably along, wholeheartedly agreeing with the invitation!

"M-Me?" he finally uttered.

"Him?" agreed Catry.

"Yes, you," Zald confirmed. "I'm not entirely sure why, but I trust the Guild-Master's judgement. If he thinks you're worthy, then you are."

"You have great potential, young one," the elderly Wyverian rasped. "Truthfully, I've been watching you since you arrived in Mezeporta. I know where you've come from, and what you've been through. Surviving in a war-ridden world for a whole year with no protection from a Hunter's Guild – not everyone would have made it."

Flush with embarrassment, Phisto explained, "Well, most of that time was spent in the Central World… you know, where the Hero first stopped the fighting… and by the time I got to the Frontier, the war was over."

"Still, my grandfather has made his choice," Caela said, "and I support it entirely. Like he said, you have great… great potential. You're more important than you realize."

Hearing such praise from the woman he'd had a crush on ever since he became a researcher pleased Phisto beyond anything he could have asked for. He was so preoccupied on what she had just said, and concentrating so hard on trying to quell his pounding heart, he didn't notice the worried glance that Caela exchanged with the Guild-Master – like they knew something that no-one else did.

"You seem rather overcome," Mircon noted, pointing out Phisto's crimson cheeks and speechlessness.

He fought with his own tongue to come up with a response without stumbling over his words. "Th-This is such a big honor. Of course I'm overcome. B-But… I'll try to make you all proud. Yes, I'm going to do my best to live up to your expectations by helping you study the Sky Corridor."

He would never have the courage to admit it to anyone but Athena and Catry, but Phisto was really enjoying his time with such high-ranking researchers. Here they were now, sitting around him in the same cart and talking with him, listening to his voice as if they actually thought his words were worth considering. They were here because he – the humble Phisto Docks – had made a once-in-a-lifetime discovery. And they said he had potential in him. Maybe he _was_ something special, and he simply hadn't realized it yet.

And the way Caela smiled at him lit up his entire world.

The rest of the trip flew by for Phisto, who hadn't been keeping track of time ever since the Guild-Master had made that big proposal. Before he knew it, the Burukku-drawn cart was approaching an area that he was quite familiar with.

"We're here," he said.

Coming to a stop, the researchers disembarked and gathered up their supplies and weapons. Mircon volunteered to stay behind with the Burukku, to make sure it didn't run off, and also because he wasn't comfortable with venturing any deeper into the Swamp. The rest of them followed Phisto, who knew the area better than they did.

With every step he took, with every disgusting squish that his boots made in the mud, he only grew more excited. It was just like the old days – leading his band of companions across the land with a single monster in mind. Except this time, he wasn't in Moga, and he wasn't a hunter any longer. But all the same, this mission thrilled him as much as every hunt ever had.

 _This is a hunt, too,_ thought Phisto, remembering the talk he had had with the Council in Mezeporta. _This is the hunt for knowledge._

-.-.-.-.-.

It took longer than expected, but the three hybrids finally convinced their new acquaintance that they were there to help him and that their word was to be trusted.

At first, the Baruragaru hadn't believed a single thing that came out of their mouths. The Winged Female had spoken mean words about him, and the Pale One had inflicted pain on him. Insults and injuries weren't associated with allies, but with enemies. They were obviously lying when they said that they wanted to help. No matter how hard they tried to convince him, he'd never back down, hissing and snarling at them and discouraging them from coming closer.

In the end, though, it was the fascinating Blue Female that managed to calm him down. She bent down to look him in the eye and talked softly to him. The sound of her voice was soothing enough to make the Baruragaru take pause and reconsider his thoughts about killing them – which had been on his mind for several minutes now. The girl that spoke nicely to him was a far cry from the girl who had been so loud and strong, but the Baruragaru found himself liking the change.

 _Is this what being a Two-Legs is like?_ he suddenly wondered. _Is the change already making me weak?_

But the Blue Female was strong even though she was a Two-Legs – albeit one with a tail and pretty glowing lights. Maybe she could teach him to be strong. Maybe he could impress her. Surely a female that attractive had to be worth it.

That was how the Baruragaru found himself going against his better judgement and joining the trio of strange Two-Legs.

Some time after they had left the caves and started trekking across the mudflats that dominated the Swamp, Keyren glanced back and saw that the unknown hybrid was cautiously lagging behind, but still sticking relatively close to her. He still didn't entirely trust them, and he still walked all hunched over as if he felt he should be walking on all fours.

"Doing okay?" she asked him, making Melody and Gekula take notice.

"Sssss…" the hybrid answered, flicking out his tongue.

"I bet he's some kind of leviathan," the Lagiacrus-girl said to the others, boastfully. "He's got that sort of elegance to him. Only a sea monster could be so graceful."

"Elegance?" Melody asked doubtfully, sounding like she still thought the newcomer was hideous. "If you say so."

"But he can't be a sea monster," Gekula reasoned, nostrils flaring open and closed. "We found him on land, and the Swamp doesn't have any large bodies of water. Anyway, we're almost to the random wheat field."

The Baruragaru cocked his head, interested despite himself. That particular phrase, "random wheat field" had come up several times, so apparently it was important. Also, the "hybrids", as they called themselves, talked about this place as if they thought it didn't belong in the Swamp. Whatever a wheat field was, it must not have been very similar to a cave or a bog.

And it certainly wasn't. When they arrived, the Baruragaru found himself up to his face in dry, itchy grass. He reluctantly stood more upright, like the other hybrids, so his vision wasn't obstructed by so much yellow.

In the middle of the random wheat field was a monstrously-large contraption that couldn't have been created by natural forces. It was made of trees, or a material that was kind of like trees. It also had a spinning fan-like thing on its backside, and a huge ball floating above it, attached by weird brown vines. He didn't know it, but the Baruragaru was looking at an airship, which had originally been abandoned by humans and then recovered by the hybrids.

"Finally!" chirped Melody. Her tail flushed red with excitement. "Now we can go home! Come on, our Elite's waiting!"

When they climbed aboard (the Baruragaru needed a bit of assistance, but was a fast learner and copied Keyren's actions), they were greeted by the one in charge of their scouting mission – the "Elite", one experienced and wise hybrid out of four that served directly under Duruhos, their leader.

In this case, it was Cindy, the Dinovaldo-woman with a tail as sharp as a sword and a wit to match. Her dark red dress was made up of scales that were hard enough to protect her, yet flexible enough to move in. The metallic blue spines that lined her back, arms, and shoulders were mineral-like in nature, and she wore a mask made of the same material over most of her face, obscuring all but her mouth and chin – a mask adorned with horns and a pair of fangs. It was meant to resemble the head plating of her dinosaurian kind, and certainly made her pretty scary.

"What have we here?" Cindy growled, peering at the new hybrid. "At first I thought you were another slimy Khezu. But you can see me."

There was a hostile hiss from the hybrid, and his bright red fins again pricked up, the better to warn her away.

"Terrifying," the Dinovaldo-woman drawled. "Keyren, put him in the cargo hold with the others we found. Oh, and let the Deviljho out while you're at it – she seems to have finally gotten the hang of speaking."

Keyren opened her mouth to reply, but Melody interrupted with a warble of concern. "She's the only one? Not the Najarala or the Chameleos?"

Cindy breathed a flicker of flame into the air. "The Chameleos transformed far too recently, and the snake wyvern is a stubborn one. She won't be allowed out until she lets her human instincts develop – which could be weeks."

"With all due respect," Gekula butted in, with that unpleasant chuckle of his, "but our new friend doesn't exactly like strangers. He won't take kindly to another non-speaking hybrid, if you… catch my drift."

"Then you're on cleanup duty if a fight breaks out," snarled Cindy, thwacking his head with the flat of her tailblade. The Khezu-boy reeled from the blow, then gurgled in his throat before slinking away to a shadowed area of the airship.

Perhaps Cindy had noticed that the unknown hybrid had taken a shine to Keyren. Why else would she specifically ask the Lagiacrus-girl to keep him in the cargo hold? Keyren also knew, as she led her admirer below deck, that he'd be comfortable down there in the dark. Maybe the Najarala-woman wouldn't bother him too much, and the Chameleos-boy wasn't mischievous enough to intentionally provoke a wary enemy. The Deviljho-girl was leaving, thank goodness – otherwise she'd probably try to eat him.

"Stay here, alright?" she asked, gently showing the hybrid into an empty cell. "It'll be safe in here, and the others… shouldn't… bother you. Much."

The Baruragaru's tail flicked in an odd, shivery pattern. The discomfort in the Blue Female's voice was discouraging.

"Don't worry, I'll come back frequently to check on you," she assured him. "Mostly to make sure you haven't melted the other inmates with your venom. You're a trigger-happy guy, aren't you?"

Should the Baruragaru tell her that he was out of the poison he had drained from the Red Poison-Spitter? No, better to let her believe he was still dangerous. It also helped that he hadn't yet figured out how to speak in her language.

"Sssss…" he said instead.

The Blue Female smiled, a gesture that made the Baruragaru perk up. That was a good sign, right? Was that the Two-Legs way to show affection?

"Remember," she said, "stay there and I'll be back later."

With that, she left, although not before retrieving a stocky, muscular female with scaly arms and legs from another cell and leading her out. The reptilian Two-Legs grunted something too incomprehensible for the Baruragaru to understand.

The once-leviathan, now a freakish blend of monster and human, curled up on the floor and drifted off to sleep. The angry rattling of his Najarala neighbor didn't disturb him, for the dark comforted him.

Not even the lurch of the airship as it slowly took to the skies was enough to rouse him.

-.-.-.-.-.

 **The Swamp has a random wheat field in it. What was Capcom smoking when they designed that area?**

 **So we get another peek at the Baruragaru's thoughts, and he's pretty… fascinated… with Keyren. Also, more hints are dropped about the hybrids' lifestyle. More will certainly be revealed in the next chapter.**

 **I warned you in an earlier chapter that this story would involve the characters occasionally expressing themselves by singing. Melody is the first example, singing an altered version of "Very Important Creature" from The Land Before Time VII.**

 **Review, please, and here's hoping you look forward to more musical moments in the future.**


	7. Parched Paradise

_**Chapter 7 – Parched Paradise**_

-.-.-.-.-.

"Hey, Swamp Boy."

The Baruragaru's eyes snapped open in a flash of orange. He raised his head from the wooden floor and peered up at the cell door, immediately seeing the Blue Female on the other side. His tongue flicked out with a hiss, tasting her scent, as she opened the door.

"You've been pretty calm these last few days on the airship," she said to him. "Everyone else has been restless. You must be a strong monster to be so unconcerned with all this unfamiliarity."

He gave her a skeptical snort. Strong… maybe he had been, but no longer.

"Come on, out you go," the Blue Female urged. She stepped aside to let him through the door. "We're going to be landing soon, then we have to take you and the other new hybrids to Duruhos. He's going to want to look you over."

"Sssss…" the Baruragaru slurred. His eyes narrowed to slits, suspecting some kind of trap.

"Don't make me come in there and drag you out," she added, her voice taking on a dangerous tone.

Like that did anything to assuage his suspicions. He took a step back into the shadows and flexed his tongue threateningly, making sure his fins were pricked up and adding a low gurgle to the display. There was no way he was going out there if the Blue Female had to resort to threatening him.

She reluctantly spat out a word. "P… Please?"

He didn't know what this 'please' was supposed to mean, so he ignored it. Instead of a hiss, he belted out a howl. "HUWAAAAAAWGH!"

The reply he got didn't come from the Blue Female, though.

"MYAAAAAAGGGRRRR!"

A horrid sound, a mechanical roar that grated on the ears, made both the Baruragaru and the Blue Female flinch at its suddenness. Just then, there was another female standing before him – the one with the glinting tail and covered face, the one that privately filled the Baruragaru with nervousness.

"What's taking so long?" the Covered One growled, swishing that powerful tail impatiently. Whenever it touched the floor, hot sparks flew.

"He's not coming out," the Blue Female complained. Her own tail flicked back and forth in an annoyed manner.

A low snarl vibrated through the confines of the artificial chamber, and the Covered One advanced. The Baruragaru leapt back and crouched, unleashing his worst howl in hopes it would deter her. If only he hadn't run out of ammo from the Red Poison-Spitter yesterday…

"He doesn't have a choice," she growled, and raised her tailblade.

There was a *crack*, a burst of pain that shot through the Baruragaru's head, and all-consuming darkness.

-.-.-.-.-.

The everlasting twin spires of Loc Lac City were visible on the horizon when Cindy and Keyren emerged from the cargo hold. The latter was dragging the unconscious form of the strange hybrid behind her.

Seeing the boy's condition and jumping to the right conclusion, Melody scowled at Cindy. "You didn't have to hit him so hard."

"No one disobeys me," the Dinovaldo-woman snarled.

Keyren cast her gaze over at the Qurupeco-girl, as well as Gekula, silently asking them if they had everything under control. Naturally, Gekula missed it, but Melody caught her friend's look and pointed over to the other side of the airship's deck.

Standing out in the open was the Deviljho-girl that she had recently let out, on account of her learning how to speak the human language. Her arms and legs were bulky and covered with scales, while her feet and hands were clawed. She wore a bright green T-shirt and shorts – the latter of which had a large hole in the back to accommodate a huge pickle-shaped tail.

"Dissidia?" she asked. "Did you do what I asked?"

"Yes," the recently-named Dissidia grunted. "Dissidia keep watch on others. Others no make trouble. They be quiet."

The 'others' she spoke of were right behind her. The first was a Chameleos-boy, with a long and pointy nose as well as a pair of crescent-shaped wings. His choice of clothing was a ludicrous purple cloak decorated with yellow stars. When he caught Keyren looking his way, he flashed her a goofy grin, showing viper-like fangs.

The second was far less friendly-looking. She was a regular, brown-skinned human woman from the waist up, but a Najarala from the waist down. Her long green body was coiled in a neat circle, and the brightly-colored crown of plates on her head clattered every time they moved. Right now, she sent a vibration through her plates, causing them to produce a resonating rattle.

"They no make trouble," Dissidia repeated. "Dissidia pound them if they do. That what Keyren said."

Keyren gave her a nod and a smile. Fortunately for all of them, the Deviljho-girl had turned out to be kind-hearted and sensitive – even if she was also pretty dumb. Melody loved her, and the two had become best friends in less time than it took to skin a Jaggi.

All of a sudden, there was a harsh hiss and a flurry of movement. The unfamiliar hybrid had, evidently, recovered from the thrashing Cindy had given him and was now fully awake. He jumped to his feet and scurried to a spot where the airship's balloon cast a shadow over the deck, hissing and rubbing his face as if he had been burnt by the sun.

The sun… A realization hit Keyren like a thunderbolt.

"Of course," she said. "We found you in a cave in the Swamp, didn't we? Of course you wouldn't like the sunlight."

Swamp Boy simply stared at her, blinking. His expression couldn't be read.

"Can't say I enjoy the light, myself," Gekula grumbled. Currently, he was sniffing his arms for any sign of a burn.

Suddenly, Cindy broke through the chatter by pounding her tailblade on the ground for attention. She ordered, "Prepare the airship for landing. We're nearing the border of Loc Lac City."

A shiver of anticipation ran down Keyren's spine, and electricity crackled across her back. Seeing the twin towers that soared high above the desert city always gave her such a thrill. She noticed that Gekula and Melody appeared excited as well. They were as relieved as she was to be back home after their long scouting mission.

"Gekula, help me land the airship," she told the Khezu-boy. "Melody and Dissidia, you keep watch over the hybrids. Don't go anywhere, Swamp Boy."

Catching the nickname, the Baruragaru's fins pricked up alertly, and he gazed expectantly at the Blue Female. She repeated her statement – "Don't go anywhere" – and headed to another part of the 'airship' with the Pale One following close behind. Good. The farther away that blind creature was from him, the better.

Then he looked to his right and instantly met the unforgiving glare of the Covered One. Torn between fight and flight, the Baruragaru crouched into his defensive posture and warily backed away, extending his tongue in case she attacked him.

But the Covered One didn't make a move. "No inconveniences from you," she growled. "Give me a reason to, and I'll smack you to sleep again."

"Sssss…" he replied.

She grunted with something like disgust, then turned and walked away with a swish of her tailblade.

Now that he was safe, the Baruragaru turned his attention to the rest of his surroundings and began to investigate – but made sure to stay out of the light. Being exposed to the sky's Bright Circle seared his eyes like fire. So he lowered himself onto all fours as best as he could and let his tongue hover in front of him, tasting everything that was nearby.

All sorts of new information started to stream in through the Baruragaru's taste buds. The floor carried a tree-like scent, but also faint traces of Two-Legs. Could it have been those weaklings that had made this complex contraption? It boggled his mind. Furthermore, he could taste the individual scents of three new 'hybrids' around him – the Legless Female smelled of earth and blood, the Big Female had an overpowering scent of raw meat (had she eaten recently?), and the Purple Male carried faint traces of poison.

For those reasons, he decided that they were threats and to stay far away from them. He'd stick close to the Blue Female from now on.

It was very windy on the 'airship'. The Baruragaru closely examined the fence that was built along the edges of the contraption, and came to the conclusion that it was designed so that passengers wouldn't accidentally fall off. When he hazarded a peek over the edge of the fence, though, he got the shock of his life – the ground was a long way down!

Feeling dizzy, the Baruragaru sat down on his posterior, a position that felt natural in this absurd new body of his. Why were they so high in the air? Wherever they were going, wouldn't it have been safer to walk? Was flying really necessary?

A rattle brought him out of his admittedly cowardly thoughts. The Legless Female was nearby, and was lying flat on the deck with her hands planted solidly on the wood, holding up her torso. She, too, seemed unnerved by how high up they were… and when she shared a glance with him, and he saw the fear in her eyes, he felt like he had just been stabbed in the chest.

Wait, was that what pity felt like?

Disgusted with himself, the Baruragaru gurgled hostilely at the Legless Female. _What are you looking at?_

She glared in response and rattled her plates loud enough to make his fins quiver. _I am queen of my domain. Don't trifle with me, worm._

The temptation to make her pay for her insolence was strong, but the Baruragaru resisted the urge. Undoubtedly, the Covered One was watching him to see if he would cause any 'inconveniences' – and starting a fight miles above the ground probably wasn't a wise thing to do, anyway.

Unwilling to accidentally cause any more confrontations, the Baruragaru flicked his tail dismissively at the Legless Female and wandered to another part of the airship. He intended to stay as still as possible, and as far away from the edge as possible, until they landed.

-.-.-.-.-.

The city of Loc Lac had a long and glorious history as the largest and most prosperous settlement on the Great Continent.

It was an immense artificial mountain range on the edge of the Great Desert, an island floating in the sea of sand. For thousands of years, it was the center of trade in the Moga region, shipping its goods to places all over the continent. During the Human-Monster War, it was the base of operations for an enormous Hunter's Guild, providing jobs for hundreds of Guild officials and hunters alike. Not only that, but the scales and shells of monsters brought back by those hunters fueled their own industry, a thriving market of materials made from harvested monster parts. Living in Loc Lac had its risks, though – the constant danger of sandstorms, the relative lack of water, the extreme climate, and the occasional risk of attack from Jhen Mohrans, which were some of the most enormous elder dragons alive. Despite that, Loc Lac was the Great Continent's greatest success story.

Up until a couple of years ago.

It happened so fast. One day, it was business as usual for the bustling metropolis – the next, the sun was rising over a ghost town. There were no survivors to tell Loc Lac's final tale. No one knew the true nature of the disaster that had struck, only that the legacy of Loc Lac City had suddenly come to an end.

The Hunter's Guilds across the Great Continent clamored to know what had happened. They sent their hordes of their very best researchers to investigate, to expose the cause of the disaster and to see if Loc Lac could be repopulated. But no answers were raised, only another question – why weren't any of the researchers coming back?

After a full two months of having their people apparently disappear off the face of the planet, the Hunter's Guilds agreed to finally leave Loc Lac City alone, to let it stand alone in the Great Desert as a memorial to all those that perished in the calamity.

And so, the hybrids found the perfect hideout to conceal themselves from the humans.

The first group to come to Loc Lac City was led by an old Duramboros-man named Duruhos. Along the migratory trail of the Goddess of the Storm, Amatsumagatsuchi, they came across the immense ruined city by following the seasonal rains she bestowed upon the earth. Deciding that Loc Lac was the best possible location to keep his fellow hybrids in one place, and away from the humans, Duruhos and his band settled down to make Loc Lac their permanent home.

From that point forward, a new, thriving community had been born – albeit one on a much smaller scale than the last. Under the guidance of the Elite, the hybrids repaired the sandships and airships as a means of transportation to and from their isolated home. They made frequent trips to nearby sub-regions for food and water, and less frequent trips to sub-regions farther across the continent, looking for other hybrids to hide away with them. Duruhos and the Elite knew that it was best to be patient before risking discovery by the humans.

Keyren was explaining all of this to the Baruragaru as they prepared to land outside the city limits. "See, Swamp Boy, that's why we came to find you. It's better to hide out here than make contact with the humans, at least for now. They're unpredictable creatures."

Oh, the Baruragaru could relate to that. His leg still hurt a little in the spot where the Two-Legs had injured it. Unpredictable, indeed… and dangerous, too.

What was a city, though? He took one look at the towering, artificial spires rising up out of the ground and shuddered at their unfamiliarity. The whole complex looked like a much, much bigger version of one of the Two-Legs' roosts back in his original home.

Dissidia, though, was befuddled. "Why go outside city for food?" she wondered. "Outside dangerous. Outside home to big monsters. Big monsters crush you like twigs under foot."

Suddenly, the rough and unexpected voice of Cindy cut Keyren off before she could answer the Deviljho-girl's question. "That story will have to wait. We'll be landing in a few minutes. Get everyone in order, Keyren – we're going to meet with the other Elites, then take the newcomers to Duruhos for inspection. And if you can't handle them if they start acting up, I'll deal with them myself."

"Excuse me?!" the Lagiacrus-girl demanded hotly, putting her hands on her bare hips and scowling. But Cindy ignored her.

To the Baruragaru's relief, the airship started to descend toward the ground, near a spot where the desert sand met the paved roads of the city outskirts. A wave of relief passed over the group when the airship touched down – even Keyren's anger diminished when she felt the vehicle come to a halt. For some, they were happy to be on solid earth again, but for everyone else, they were just happy to be home.

There was no time for reminiscing, though. Standing in front of the group as they climbed off of the airship, here to welcome the long-due scouts, were three other monster-people – easily the oddest that any of them had ever seen. To Keyren and the other Loc Lac hideaways, they were known as the Elites, the rest of the gang that Cindy belonged to.

First was Sue, the Tamamitsune-woman. With her petite stature and rose-colored kimono, coupled with the flower petal-like fins that sprouted from her head, she was the picture of elegance and mystery. A crafty light glinted in her eyes as she studied those of the group that were unfamiliar to her, calmly waving her long furry tail to and fro. Every time it brushed the pavement, the ground was wet by large soapy bubbles. Her arms were folded in front of her, using her sleeves to hide her hands from view.

Beside her stood Odon, a relatively young Raizekusu-man. The most obvious difference between him and the other Elite was that he wore no clothes – instead, his body was covered by a dark green exoskeleton that was studded with spikes. His tail sported a vicious set of pincers, an enormous curving horn grew from his forehead, and most striking of all, his arms were in fact a pair of glowing wings that were patterned like a butterfly's. His every move was made with a fidgety mix of impatience and madness. While he did stand in place, his head jerked around and his wings flexed constantly, like electricity was coursing through his veins instead of blood.

The Baruragaru made a mental note that he was probably inedible – and definitely unstable.

Finally, the most massive of the Elites was none other than Ray himself. The Gamuto-man stood at an impressive seven feet tall and three feet wide. His gigantic frame was heavily covered in a thick coat, which consisted of several huge pieces of red-and-dark-blue fur haphazardly patched together. He wore gloves and boots made from the same material, although the boots also had a layer of bony armor. Even his face was covered by a wild blue beard, but it did nothing to hide the bludgeon-like tusks that projected from his cheeks. At first glance, Ray's hair seemed to be done up in a long ponytail, but when it moved around of its own accord and huffed a blast of air out from the end, it was clear that it was in fact his trunk.

"Greetings, sister," Sue was the first to greet, her voice kept to a low murmur as she formally bowed to Cindy. "The Pond told me that you would at last arrive today. I am glad to witness your safe return to Loc Lac."

In the most polite manner anyone had ever seen her use, Cindy returned the bow.

A harsh *snap* of electricity blurred across Odon's wings, and he twitched so badly that it seemed to give him new life. "And these are the yokels you found down in the Frontier boonies?" he sneered snappishly. "Ha, they don't look like much. Are all the weak monsters only just starting to transform now?"

The Baruragaru gurgled deep in his throat. How dare this Spiky Male throw around such insults? But then again… if he could afford to do that without fear of attack, then he must be powerful. He stayed in place, content with his threat display.

Unlike him, the Najarala-woman screeched with outrage and lunged, her coiled body throwing her forward like a spring. Odon cackled and whipped his tail out of nowhere, using his pincers to clamp down on the brown-skinned hybrid's neck. Finding herself vulnerable, she rattled her plates in hopes that the noise would stun him. But the noise didn't affect the Raizekusu-man, who violently slammed her head into the pavement.

Unconscious in an instant, the Najarala-woman slurred a defeated hiss as her spine automatically responded to the trauma by putting her into a coiled position again.

"Anyone else wanna go?" Odon shrieked with laughter, tapping his feet on the ground erratically.

"MYAAAAAAAGRRR!" Cindy roared. The sound was terrible enough to freeze Odon in place, barring the occasional twitch.

Sue had a subtle, dangerous glint in her eyes, contrasting with her otherwise patient expression. "Thank you, sister," she murmured. "I did not want to have to involve myself in this pointless violence."

Almost unnoticeably, the Baruragaru slipped closer to the Blue Female's side. Although the Covered One was horrible, he was grateful to her for putting the Spiky Male in his place. That creature unnerved him like no other.

 _This is the "city",_ the leviathan-turned-human said to himself. _If these are the kinds of monsters… hybrids… that dwell here, I would much rather be alone in my den._

A deep rumble broke him out of his musings – it was the Giant, the only Elite that had not yet made a sound until now.

"Now that we're all settled," the Gamuto-man was saying, "we need to take our scouts to Duruhos. Keyren, Gekula, and Melody, under Cindy's guidance, have done a good job. What monsters have you found?"

It was Melody who spoke. The happy-go-lucky Qurupeco-girl was not intimidated at all by Ray's monstrous size, and so approached him with a cheery chirp and a display of her tail.

"We got four~!" she enthused. "A Deviljho, Najarala, Chameleos, and… this one." She indicated the Baruragaru by pointing at him with a wing.

All of a sudden, three sets of not-quite-friendly eyes were focused squarely on the Baruragaru. He stared at each of them with his own set of orange ones – the Giant looked like he couldn't care less, the Spiky One looked disdainful, and the Flower-Head seemed curious, but in a bad way. Studious, or analytic.

"What is he?" the Giant rumbled, to no-one in particular.

"Looks like a Gigginox and a Ludroth had a really ugly baby!" the Spiky One sneered.

"Fascinating…" said the Flower-Head. "A stranger in our midst. The Pond has not warned me of this happenstance. Definitely a leviathan – he has the elegance of our kind."

He cocked his head. That was what the Blue Female had said earlier. He wasn't sure what it meant, though.

Flashing a triumphant grin at her fellow scouts, Keyren boasted, " _See_? What did I tell you?"

Her remark didn't get much of a reaction. Melody shrugged in a way that suggested she was torn between arguing and leaving it be. Gekula didn't even do that, just sniffed the air to make sure of where he was.

"Whatever he is," Ray said, "he is still a hybrid, and will stay with us so that we are not exposed by the humans."

"Let us not delay any longer," Sue added, turning around with a swish of her luxurious tail. "Duruhos will be expecting you. I will inform him of your return."

"Very well," agreed Cindy. "Keyren, Melody, Gekula, you're with me. Make sure the Chameleos and whatever-he-is come along."

With that all finished, the group split up. Ray slung the unconscious Najarala-woman over his shoulder and instructed Dissidia to follow him. Sue, always a fast mover, vanished in seconds. Cindy led the scouts and the new hybrids into the city. Odon was the only one to stay by the airship, presumably to make sure it was well secured in place.

As the buildings began to close in the further they wandered into Loc Lac, the Baruragaru shuddered and crouched into his defensive posture again. His tongue flicked out constantly to taste the new scents, and every time he did so, he looked more and more wary. None of this was familiar to him. He felt so out of place in this unnatural world.

 _But you are unnatural,_ a voice reminded him. _An abandoned Two-Legs roost is the only place a freak like you can hide and not be discovered. You're weak._

"Sssss…" he hissed with displeasure, shaking out his fins even though there was no need to intimidate. He pointed his orange glare down at the stony path beneath his feet – but even _that_ didn't feel right. Its texture and flatness was nothing like ordinary stone.

This was his life now. This was the only place he'd fit in – not as a powerful monster, not as a scrawny Two-Legs, but as a disgusting mix between the two.

The sooner the Baruragaru accepted his place, the easier his time here in Loc Lac City would be. But he'd be damned if he wasn't going to try his hardest to resist it.

-.-.-.-.-.

 **New characters galore!**

 **The Elites, as you may know, are the four flagship monsters of MH Cross. I finalized their individual personalities after watching the opening cinematic for Cross – Dinovaldo as the king (or queen), Raizekusu as the aggressive rebel, Tamamitsune as the calm mystic one, and Gamuto as the more neutral one.**

 **Also, the names of the Elite are puns. If you can guess any one of them, I'll tell you the rest!**

 **Please send reviews! And if any of you are growing more confused about how complex this story is turning out to be, I've got something in store that might help clarify things.**

 **In the meantime, I'll happily answer any questions you have.**


	8. Baleful Babysitter

_**Chapter 8 – Baleful Babysitter**_

-.-.-.-.-.

True to its name, the Old Swamp of the Minegarde region had been used as a hunting ground for generations.

There was nothing that the Minegarde Hunter's Guild didn't know about this damp sub-region. Smaller, more densely forested, and less populated with monsters than its sister sub-region in the Frontier, it was an area that those of Minegarde were intimately familiar with.

In the caves, it wasn't very dark. Rather, the cavern walls were often speckled with light-giving minerals that provided dim illumination. These mineral deposits were frequented by wandering Basarioses, who ate the pretty rocks to help build up their shells. The moisture on the floor also made these areas favorable for Vespoids and the occasional Khezu.

However, there was one cave that was unlike any other in the Old Swamp. For one, it was unusually warm – sometimes even hot. Water vapor filled the damp chamber, giving it a murky green light that made it look as if it was underwater. Unfavorable for all but the plants and fungi that had taken it over, this cavern was devoid of animal life.

But today, that was about to change.

Underneath the layers of warm mud that blanketed the floor of the humid cave, a tremendous heartbeat slowly started up, sending vibrations through the soil that disturbed the worms and other crawling things that thrived in this paradise of heat and water. The hibernating creature's pulse thundered anew through its tired veins, kicking its metabolism back into gear.

Suddenly, the temperature in the cavern began to increase. Steam hissed off of the ground, which collected in the already-saturated air until the glow of the stones on the walls was quenched. It was this natural light that refracted through the fog and turned the cave green, but now there was so much steam that it painted the entire chamber with thick, opaque white.

A rumbling growl echoed through the cave, shaking loose debris off of the ceiling.

Muscles that hadn't been used in many centuries strained to lift their owner out of the soil.

Earth buckled and shifted as a garden of metal spikes poked through.

A pair of wingarms longer than an Akantor was tall oozed out of the mud, gripping the ground with vast talons and further lifting the beast out of its prison.

Sludgy black oil dripped like rain onto the cave floor as the beast continued to rise.

Solid stone began to crumble as its back met the ceiling.

Two points of fierce red light blazed through the fog, followed by a somewhat duller glow that shone through the mud still stuck to the monster's chest.

Now the cavern was shaking as the enormous creature fought to escape, grinding its thorn-studded back against the roof of the chamber and clawing chunks of rock out of the walls. With every struggle, the confines of its prison grew weaker. The creature itself was barely aware of this – its primitive mind was preoccupied by the ferocious hunger that was threatening to consume it.

All it knew was that it needed to be free, and that it wanted to feed.

Monsters all over the Old Swamp turned and fled in terror when the black beast exploded out of the cave, shoving its head and shoulders through the ceiling and shrugging away the walls that contained it. It took an earthshaking step forwards, further obliterating its surroundings. Its small front legs waved in the air while its back legs, wingarms, and tail supported its immense and under-exercised bulk.

For almost two millennia, it had hibernated. For almost two millennia, its body heat had warmed that cavern. For almost two millennia, it had waited for the familiar presence of powerful spirits.

Now it was awake, and the first stop it wanted to make was the human city. There was good food there, and valuable weapons to graft onto its oily back for protection.

The Gogmazios started its unhurried rampage, knowing that its target couldn't run away. It moved deceptively fast, soon leaving the caverns far behind and smashing its way through the dank forest. A roar not unlike the tolling of a gong rang out across the Old Swamp, announcing the elder dragon's unholy return.

"DRAAAAAAAYYYYYYRRR!"

It wasn't long before the Gogmazios was gone, following the scent of food in its nostrils. Trees were smashed down in its wake as it vanished into the murky mists of the Old Swamp.

A lone figure came out of hiding and stared after the baleful elder dragon, smirking.

"Stealing the gunpowder from Dundorma paid off," Avari, Spirit of Greed, said to himself. "Now that Gogmazios has awoken, he will eat what I have left him and immediately head to the Battlequarters for more. All will know that the Day of Destruction will soon begin anew."

-.-.-.-.-.

Keyren took a deep breath through her nose, feeling the familiar invigorating scent of Loc Lac City's streets tickle her nostrils. As she led Swamp Boy further into the city, in turn following Cindy and the others, she noticed how much more lively this part of the abandoned city was from the outskirts.

At the city's edge, where the buildings met the Great Desert, there was no-one. But deeper amongst the strange landscape of pavement and buildings in various states of disrepair, the hybrid community flourished. Keyren never got tired of turning her head every which way, watching her fellow monsters-turned-humans live their lives without fear of being discovered.

The Lagiacrus-girl turned her head to look at the unknown hybrid. "See, Swamp Boy? We can live in peace here until it's okay to come out. Here, we can actually feel like we belong."

"Sssss…" he hissed.

She turned away, slightly annoyed. That's the only sound he would ever make, and it wasn't like he was actually talking to her. All he was doing was tasting the air with that grotesque tongue of his. She hoped he'd give in to his human instincts soon and learn how to talk. Even Dissidia, a _Deviljho_ for Fatalis' sake, was learning faster than him.

"Dissidia like the desert," said Deviljho-girl was saying now, to Melody. "No rain in desert. Rain make things wet. Dissidia not like wet."

"No rain and plenty of good company!" she chirped back, beaming so hard her face was tinged pink. "You can even help out around here, if you feel like it!"

Keyren heard her friend socializing with the former brute wyvern, and sighed. Dissidia spoke softly and hesitantly, apparently not wishing to frighten anyone. That tail of hers got in the way a lot, and whenever that happened, she would always apologize. She had a heart of gold, that one.

 _If only I could say the same for Swamp Boy,_ she thought, casting him another glance. His hungry, orange glare was focused on a small Lagombi-boy helping his mother hang blankets on a clothesline. _He's still a monster on the inside. Thinking about nothing but food – and he's a predator. I hope Duruhos doesn't make me his caretaker._

Instead, she hoped that Swamp Boy would be assigned to someone good. Her friend Kumono the Nerscylla came to mind, or Claire the Lucent Nargacuga.

All of a sudden, Cindy came to a halt. Keyren, Melody, Dissidia, and the unnamed hybrids saw this and stopped as well, not wanting to crash into the Elite. But Gekula, with his useless eyes covered by his thick mop of hair, kept going and bumped painfully into a wall.

No one paid the Khezu-boy any heed. Their attention was focused on the building in front of them. It was a large house, but a heavily damaged one – the roof was missing, and a big chunk had been taken out of the upper-left portion of the wall. The door swung back and forth on its hinges, ever so slightly, as the wind continuously blew it open and closed.

It wasn't anything impressive, but it was where Duruhos had made his home.

After knocking, Cindy opened the door with a grating *creeeeeeaaaakk* and let her company file inside. There was only one room on the other side of the door, but it was more than big enough to fit all the hybrids inside. Without a roof to block the way, sunlight flowed freely inside and illuminated the room and its furniture. Aside from the large desk in the corner, the room's furnishings were rather standard – chairs scattered about the room, a table and cupboards for mealtimes, and an empty bedframe in the darkest corner. Exposed to the elements as it was, the inside of the house showed definite signs of wear, like the curtains made ragged by the wind, or the thin layer of sand on the floor.

Standing in the middle of the room was Duruhos himself. An elderly Rust Duramboros, he was tall with stocky arms and legs. His face was wizened and slightly wrinkled, featuring an impressive goatee growing from his chin and a pair of scythe-shaped horns sprouting from his forehead. Thanks to the big, fleshy hump on his back, Duruhos had the appearance of a hunchback, when in reality his posture was perfectly fine. A sturdy tail with a hammer-shaped growth on the end dragged on the floor behind him. He wore a simple green tunic with a pair of dusty brown shorts, and his hair was the color of sand.

However, no-one expected another person to be in the room with the leader of the hybrid community. And several people rolled their eyes when they saw who it was – Spark the Rajang.

Spark was always arguing with Duruhos. He was much younger and far more muscular, with biceps and pectorals that would make any human bodybuilder green with envy. He only wore a pair of pants and no shirt, exposing the thick mane of black fur that covered his back. His head was also topped with black fur, from where an impressive pair of horns extended on either side of him. A small tail flicked back and forth behind him. And, as usual, his eyes radiated anger while his face was set in a scowl.

"Ah, Cindy," Duruhos greeted with a smile. His voice was relaxed and calm, even when he was irritated. "Sue told me that you would be arriving. It's so wonderful to see you again. And Keyren, Gekula, and Melody. I'm glad the three of you are back safe and sound."

The three gave him respectful bows, but didn't say anything. Even Melody, normally the chattiest of them all, had shut up. It wouldn't do to speak out of turn in the presence of someone who never did so – especially when he was your leader.

"The same to you, Duruhos," growled Cindy. Behind her mask, her eyes were narrowed in Spark's direction. "Did we come at a bad time, perhaps? I can wait until you and Spark have finished your… discussion."

The old Rust Duramboros-man smiled kindly. "No, no, that's quite alright. Spark was just leaving, were you not?"

It was rare to hear tension in Duruhos' voice, unless Spark happened to be in the room. Which he was.

"Certainly," the Rajang-man replied dangerously. He casually cracked his impressive set of knuckles and added, "But I don't like how you're approaching this problem, Duruhos. Perhaps it's time we had a new leader."

With that, Sparks shrugged his way past the visitors and out the door. It wasn't as simple as that, though – when he made the mistake of bumping Cindy out of the way, the Dinovaldo-woman instantly raised her tailblade and grabbed his forearm with a clawed grip. The two of them glared into each other's eyes for the longest time, before Cindy finally relaxed and let Spark go.

"What was that troublesome oaf up to now?" she spat, the second he had left.

Sighing, Duruhos replied, "Another argument. He wishes to come with us when we leave for the coast."

"Nonsense," Cindy snarled. Her tailblade struck the floor sharply, fueled by suppressed rage.

"I'm sure he will settle down," Duruhos assured her, then turned his gaze to the newcomers to his city. "Now, why don't I have a look at the fortunate hybrids that wish to join us here in seclusion?"

Before he could, though, there was another knock at the door. Without waiting for a reply, Ray somehow managed to fit his enormous bulk through the doorway. He was still carrying the Najarala-woman over his shoulder, but she seemed to finally be stirring after the chaotic Raizekusu-man, Odon, had thrashed her.

"I've got one more," Ray rumbled. "I'll leave her with you, Duruhos."

"Excellent, Ray," he smiled. "She will be well taken care of. Thank you."

The Gamuto-man bowed, then stomped back through the doorway and disappeared.

It didn't take long for the Najarala-woman to wake up, and when she did, she immediately coiled up tensely and rattled her headdress. Her yellow eyes warily flicked from one person to the next, trying to keep them all in sight so they couldn't surprise-attack her.

"No need to be afraid," Duruhos assured her, his kind smile never wavering. He had seen this reaction a hundred times before. "I merely wish to examine you. We may as well get to know each other if you will be joining my community."

Neither the Chameleos-boy or the Najarala-woman reacted much when Duruhos inspected them, poking and prodding with his gnarled fingers – although the Najarala-woman did tense up and jerk her head when he first made contact, as if resisting the instinctive urge to bite him in self-defense. Dissidia was much more content than either of the non-speaking hybrids, even going as far to exchange a few friendly words with Duruhos as he looked her over.

"You are a Deviljho, are you not?" he asked, lightly stroking her tail.

"Yep," she grunted. "Not always hungry, though. Dissidia feel much calmer in new body. Don't feel like eating."

"Of course not," Duruhos assured her, giving her head a friendly pat. "Your metabolism isn't as high now that you're part human. You can spend less time focusing on food and more on other things. That is why your transformation is a blessing."

Appearing lost at the big words he used, Dissidia just nodded. She wasn't the only befuddled one in the room.

 _A blessing?_ the Baruragaru thought. _How could being confined to this scrawny, ungainly body be a blessing? I was powerful before, now I am weak. It is a curse for sure._

Just as he was thinking this, Duruhos laid eyes on him for the first time.

The old one frowned.

"It can't be…" he murmured.

He stood completely still, just staring at the unknown hybrid with a mixture of confusion and great interest. His gaze was met by a scalding orange one, one in which the distrust was clear.

At last, Duruhos spoke, his words hushed to a murmur. "I see this one's human instincts haven't yet taken root," he observed, almost to himself. "And I can tell that he won't let his old self go so easily. Alas, the transformation is always hard to adjust to… the body changes so quickly that it takes the mind weeks to catch up."

Hearing this, Keyren nodded in sympathy. All hybrids knew how terrible those first few days post-transformation were. The new senses, the unnatural tingle of magic, the unusual thoughts manifesting in their minds and making them question who they were… the change to a humanoid form and mind was something all got used to, but also something none enjoyed. Swamp Boy had a tough road ahead of him.

Duruhos would have undoubtedly continued in his musings unless someone interrupted him. That someone was Cindy, who thumped the flat of her tailblade against the wall for attention. The look in the Rust Duramboros-man's cleared up when he realized that the Elite had something to say.

"Focus, Duruhos," she spoke sharply. "Could it be possible that you know what this creature is?" She pointed a clawed finger at Swamp Boy, who hissed indignantly and tried to crouch behind Keyren.

Slowly, their leader nodded. "Yes. He is a monster that I never, not in my wildest dreams, could have imagined would ever find its way here. He is not native to the Great Continent – an invader from another land. I have heard whispers of this monster's existence, but thought they were just tall tales."

In a voice taut with awe, Melody hesitantly stepped forward. "So… what is he, sir?"

"A Baruragaru," Duruhos replied.

The Baruragaru in question poked his head out from behind Keyren and stood more upright, hearing and understanding the title that had been given to him and his kind.

"A most vile beast, from the stories I have heard," continued Duruhos, beginning to pace the room. "They are top predators, lurking in cold and dark places, using their deadly tongues to extract sustenance from the warm bodies of their prey."

By now, everyone was staring at the Baruragaru with new understanding written all over their faces. Hating being the center of attention, the Baruragaru flexed his fins and retreated to the nearest corner, gurgling hostilely.

"A bloodsucker?" Gekula was the first to speak. "I thought I smelled something strange on him."

"Dissidia not like," moaned Dissidia, backing away in revulsion.

But Duruhos raised his hands. "Let us not judge our cave-dwelling friend so soon. Perhaps he will grow to become quite the likeable character when his human instincts settle in."

The Baruragaru's fins pricked up again. _When_ they settled in? He didn't think so. As far as he could figure out, 'human' was their word for the weakling Two-Legs creatures. That was the one thing he did _not_ want to be likened to.

And the Blue Female's expression of vague horror wasn't helping matters. Now that she knew what he was, was she going to loathe him like her companions already did?

Something unpleasant swam its way into his chest and settled there, making him feel like he was being physically weighed down. Disappointment? Dejection? General sadness? Who cared? All the Baruragaru knew was that it was something he was unaccustomed to.

"Well, like Duruhos said, we shouldn't judge him based on what he is," said the Blue Female – _No,_ the Baruragaru corrected himself. _She and others refer to her as 'Keyren'. That may be a title similar to 'Baruragaru'. It is her identity._

"Just look at Dissidia," continued Keyren. "Her kind is infamous for being a bunch of violent, stupid brutes. But she's not so violent, or so brutish."

Everyone noticed how she didn't include 'not so stupid', but let it slide. Dissidia included.

Most shockingly, the Covered One – Cindy – was the first to agree. "She's right," she growled, casting a glance at the perplexed Baruragaru that was significantly less malevolent than others before. "We're different now. With our transformations and acquisition of new instincts, we're allowed to diversify beyond the norm of our species. I can welcome this… Baruragaru… into our midst, provided he does not act out of turn."

… _What?_

They were willing to accept him? Him, an unpopular predator in his homeland as well as, more recently, the Swamp? A creature that inspired nothing but hatred and terror, that stood for nothing but itself?

Many, many strange sensations clamored for dominance in his chest. The most prevalent was one he was rapidly getting to know well – bewilderment. Then there was a slight feeling that resembled fear – anxiety, he supposed. Under that, there was a hint of something that made him want to know more. There were a hundred and one other things that the Baruragaru felt, but the one that really got his attention was something that made him feel warm and fuzzy.

Were these Two-Legs emotions? It certainly made sense to the Baruragaru. Most monsters tended to feel only fear, anger, pain, comfort perhaps, and occasionally satisfaction. The Baruragaru decided that he hated these new feelings and tried to stamp them out. But they just wouldn't be suppressed.

 _Other monsters_ – well, hybrids technically – were agreeing to let _him_ join _them_ as an _equal_. No wonder he couldn't contain these new reactions. This situation was mind-boggling.

"I think he's overcome," remarked Melody, giggling.

She didn't know the half of it.

"That reminds me," Duruhos said, slowly moving over to his desk to pluck something out of a cup – a twig of some kind. Thoughtfully munching on it, the Rust Duramboros-man went on, "Our foreign friends are going to need caretakers. Is there anyone available?"

"Kumono?" suggested Keyren, thinking of her friend the Nerscylla-boy. "He's good with taking care of people – which is weird. I mean, he's a _spider_. Patience and compassion don't exactly run in the family."

"He already has his hands full," Gekula reminded. "I could take the Baruragaru, if you want."

" _No_ ," Keyren spoke sharply. "Your existence is enough of a bad influence."

"Your words wound me," the Khezu-boy snickered, apparently finding the insult hilarious.

"Dissidia go with Melody," decided Dissidia. "Dissidia like her. She happy and funny."

"That might actually be a good idea," Duruhos agreed, nodding. "And I know a couple of folks that might be willing to take the Chameleos and Najarala."

The Najarala-woman clattered suspiciously. The Chameleos-boy, though, just grinned and crossed his eyes goofily.

"That leaves Swamp Boy," stated Keyren. The Baruragaru perked up when he heard her speak, having learned a long time ago to associate the brash and confident tone of the voice with the attractive girl it came from.

Duruhos spared him a long, considerate look, then suddenly nodded to himself, appearing to arrive at a decision. "I think I know someone who would be good for the job," he announced. "Someone who would benefit from this partnership as much as our friend here. Cindy, you know who I'm talking about, don't you?"

The Dinovaldo-woman made a face – although her mask made it hard to tell – and promptly exited the room to fetch the person that Duruhos had been speaking of.

Everyone else exchanged blank glances, unable to figure out for the life of them whom their leader was talking about.

But soon, their curiosity was put to rest. It didn't take long for Cindy to return, announcing her presence with a knock at the door. Without waiting for an answer, she stepped inside and away from the door to show the hybrid she had brought with her.

Keyren saw her, and her temper figuratively went through the roof. " _WHAT?! Are you INSANE?!_ "

The girl was dressed in a tight black shirt, skirt, and leggings, with Remobra-skin shoes to match. A belt kept her skirt from slipping, decorated with a skull-shaped buckle. A spiked collar wound around her slender neck, and another around her wrist. Immense wings as dark as night extended from her back, lined with ferocious red spikes. Another spike adorned her jet-black tail, one as long and sharp as a lance. Her short black hair framed a pale face and dark, navy blue eyes – a face that was neutral and eyes in which despair perpetually swam.

Every hybrid that made up Loc Lac's sparse population knew this young woman, and looked down on her with disgust. Despite her shy personality, unintimidating stature, and negative outlook on life in general, she came from a wyvern species so hated and feared that they were widely believed to be demons from Hell given physical form. The girl and her kind had no distinguishing name – they were only known, ironically, as the Unknown.

"You called, Duruhos?" the girl murmured, uncomfortably staring at her hands clasped in front of her.

"Sera," he greeted, smiling again. "I'm glad you could make it so quickly."

"You're the only one who ever is," Sera replied, in the same neutral monotone.

"I take it back," Keyren said emphatically, dorsal spines crackling loudly. "Gekula's fine. Let him take Swamp Boy under his wing. There's _no way_ that _Sera_ is getting anywhere _near_ him!"

Sera's eyes widened, although she didn't even spare Keyren a glance. "You want me to be a caretaker, Duruhos?"

"It'd be a fine experience for you," he told her reassuringly. "Perhaps you'll cheer up a little now that you have something productive to do. You're always beating yourself up about things that don't matter. With a new hybrid that needs taking care of, maybe you'll realize that you're more valuable and useful than others tell you."

Unsure, Sera remained silent.

Nostrils flinching as if he couldn't bear even the scent of the newcomer, Gekula objected, "With all due respect, Duruhos… you picked Sera? Surely you must know of her… origin? If so, you must also know that she is the worst possible monster to let near an impressionable, recently-transformed monster such as Swamp Boy over there."

"I can't believe I'm actually _saying_ this," Keyren added in a snarl, "but Gekula's right."

Before anyone else could back them up, Duruhos raised a hand for quiet. "Now, I know perfectly well what you youngsters believe about Sera, but I believe differently. She has great potential, but cannot reach it if she is content to distance herself from the world and endure the remarks you make in your prejudice. Being the caretaker of this Baruragaru will be just as much help to her damaged self-esteem as it will be to the Baruragaru's life as a whole."

Only now did Sera turn around and come face-to-face with her charge. The Baruragaru's first instinct was to hiss and warn her off… but he didn't. There was something about the girl's shadowed eyes that made him immediately contrite. Never had he seen such an expression of hopelessness. It was an expression of one who was completely lost and alone in a city full of others like her.

Again, the Baruragaru felt pity. But he was so mesmerized by Sera's pits of despair that he didn't try to quash it.

"So you are the one," the Unknown-girl murmured. One hand gripped her wrist self-consciously. "I… I can understand if you don't want me as your caretaker. I'm sure you've heard a lot of bad things about me… but if Duruhos thinks I'm good enough to help you, then I'll be willing."

The Baruragaru was strangely awed. From what he had already seen and heard, no-one liked this girl at all, even less than they liked the Pale One – _Gekula,_ he remembered. _But her… her trust in this old 'hybrid', Duruhos, is so great that she believes in his words completely._

To be perfectly honest, he was kind of frightened at how easily he was able to understand Sera. Was this what Duruhos meant when he said that she would be a good caretaker for him? Did he know that they'd be able to relate to each other?

As soon as 'each other' crossed his mind, he felt that warm feeling again. The idea of knowing someone who was sort of like him was… comforting.

 _It's because you're weak,_ the nasty voice of doubt reminded him. _You want to rely on others now because your transformation has left you helpless._

Sera extended a hand adorned with talon-like nails, distracting the Baruragaru from the dark thoughts lurking in his mind. He examined it, allowing his tongue to slip free from his mouth and dart around her outstretched fingers, taking in her scent. She was forever patient with him.

The Baruragaru reached the conclusion that she didn't smell like something to be wary of. Although he _was_ reluctant to trust others, because that got you nowhere in the wild, he had to admit that he needed all the help he could get in this strange new world he had stumbled into.

He nodded to her, something that he knew would get a positive reaction from observing Keyren and the others.

But he didn't get any kind of reaction. Sera's neutral expression never changed, apart from a twitch at the edge of her mouth.

"Alright, I will be your caretaker then," she told him.

He nodded again. He was getting good at learning how to communicate with these hybrids, which would be essential for his survival.

Turning to Duruhos, Sera asked him quietly, "Does he have a name?"

He replied in the negative. "I don't believe so. If you can convince him to go along with it, you can pick one for him."

"Sssss…" the Baruragaru hissed. He smelled tension from where Keyren and the rest were still watching.

"I can't believe this is happening…" the Lagiacrus-girl growled.

Sera heard, and what happened next was strange. For the first time, her face changed – it was subtle, but her expression hardened, and a red gleam flickered across the surface of her eyes.

It was the Baruragaru's turn to tense.

But then Sera was normal again. She moved the arm with the spiked collar around the wrist and brushed her hair away from her eyes. Then she looked directly at the Baruragaru with a gaze that contained an odd intensity beyond the perpetual sadness, and spoke a single word…

"Sanguis."

Everyone fell silent when they heard the uttered sound. The only noise was that of the wind, which blew through the roofless dwelling and stirred up the sand on the ground.

"Do you like it?" Sera asked softly. "I hear Baruragarus like the taste of blood more than any other monster, so I thought the name would be good, and meaningful. Is… is that okay?"

 _Sanguis…_ It was very unusual, like nothing the Baruragaru had ever heard. Did he even want a name? He was definitely still adamant about staying true to his nature, to who he was, but after his transformation, he felt like he no longer knew anything about himself. So did he want a name, to be called something other than 'Baruragaru' or 'Swamp Boy'?

"Sssss…" he hissed, and nodded.

In his defense, it was on an indecisive impulse.

Duruhos clapped his hands together. "Congratulations!" he praised. "You two are companions now. Sera, take good care of him, and Sanguis, do the same for her."

All Sera did was look down at her feet.

The Baruragaru – now Sanguis – indicated that he understood by moving closer to Sera's side.

The other hybrids were muttering amongst themselves. Sanguis' sharp ears heard Keyren snorting, "I wonder how long this will last."

"Oh, not even I can see what good will come from this…" Melody moaned.

"Dissidia not understand…" the Deviljho-girl said, scratching her head.

He was so close to her now, he could feel the girl in black trembling. And when he caught a glimpse of her downcast eyes, they turned red for the tiniest of instants.

There was something more to this quiet, mysterious girl than met the eye…

-.-.-.-.-.

 **The bad news, Gogmazios is awake and heading for its old stomping grounds, and the leader of the hybrids is having problems with a discontent Rajang-man. Will Spark continue to be bothersome in the future?**

 **As for the good news, our misfortunate Baruragaru friend finally has a name – and his caretaker is introduced, a less-than-pleasant and lonely girl that seems to have a secret hidden away. What could that secret be, I wonder?**

 **And there's more good news! I've uploaded a timeline/dictionary for events and terms of this story that you might be confused about. I understand that there's a lot in "Metamorphosis: Seven Sins" to take in, so reading this should make it easier to digest.**

 **Feel free to send reviews, and be sure to check out the little database I've compiled for you lovely readers! Until then!**


	9. Demanding Decisions

_**Chapter 9 – Demanding Decisions**_

-.-.-.-.-.

The meeting with Duruhos didn't last much longer after Sanguis and Sera had been assigned to each other. The hybrids went their separate ways, except for Cindy, who stayed behind. Sanguis noticed that a lot of them gave Sera dark looks on their way out, but she didn't seem to notice. Maybe she was used to it.

"Keep up please, Sanguis," she called to him now, albeit quietly. He came out of his thoughts and saw her standing several meters in front of him. Quickly, he scampered forward on his new pair of legs to rejoin her.

"You're adapting to your transformation well," Sera commented, her face still retaining that neutral expression. "It was easy for me to learn how to walk, because my kind already walks on two legs… but it can't have been the same way for you, because you're a leviathan."

"Sssss…" he replied.

"Am I bothering you?" she asked, ducking her head. "Sorry… I need to learn how to be a better caretaker."

Truthfully, Sanguis didn't mind her. Sure, she looked weak and kind of appetizing, but he figured that much stronger hybrids wouldn't like it if he tried anything – and at least she wasn't annoying, like the Winged Female from earlier, Melody.

"A-Anyway," Sera continued, "I suppose I should introduce myself properly. I'm Sera, and it's nice to meet you. I hope I can properly help you like Duruhos wants me to… he's the only one that has faith in me. Everyone else thinks I'm just evil."

Sanguis blinked. That was an odd assumption to make, in his opinion.

"I am an Unknown," she explained, flicking her tail uncomfortably. The long red point on the end gleamed brightly in the sun. "We're extraordinarily powerful monsters that have existed for many thousands of years. I'm not sure if that means anything to you or not… but because of our power… and our terrible rage… other monsters shun us. They say we're not supposed to exist…"

He watched as the Unknown-girl self-consciously grabbed her wrist and flexed her wings as if she wanted nothing more than to wrap them around herself and hide away from the rest of the world. He said nothing. Even if he could eventually figure out how to speak to her – which he _would not_ , because there was no way he was becoming any more like a Two-Legs than he already was – then what could he say? He had never heard of an Unknown, and he had never experienced such a level of despair as what she had sunk into, so making her feel better was out of the question.

Instead, he decided that staying still and not doing anything was a good solution.

"I'm sorry for bothering you with my problems," Sera apologized to him. "I hope Duruhos was right when he said that taking care of you would help me find purpose in my life…"

Hesitantly, she extended her hand and reached out to touch Sanguis' shoulder. He saw the black, claw-like nails coming for him and immediately reacted – fins up, tongue out, throat vibrating, the whole shebang.

"Okay, you're not comfortable with being touched," she sighed, grabbing her wrist again. "Just one more thing we have in common, I suppose…"

Sanguis calmed down and moved closer to her, a question in his burning orange eyes. Weren't they going somewhere?

"I suppose we should get moving," she told him. "I wanted to ask Sue about something. I always go to her when I need advice… have you met her?"

Yes, the name did seem familiar to Sanguis. She was the one he thought of as the Flower Head because of her frilly fins.

Sera continued to lead her new charge down the mostly abandoned streets of Loc Lac City, only crossing paths with another hybrids once or twice. After all, there were only so many of them, despite frequent scouting missions across the Great Continent. Whenever they did meet another hybrid, the passersby would always move out of Sera's way and glare harshly at her. She walked with a sort of confidence that disguised her timid personality, as if she knew perfectly well that others would step aside for her. Her sad eyes always stared directly ahead, completely ignoring their harsh looks.

The walk lasted for about ten minutes. Sera slipped into a narrow, tunnel-like passageway that led downwards, beneath the ground. Sanguis followed her with renewed energy, eager to be back in the dark. He stumbled at first on the staircase, expecting a smooth incline instead of a series of steps, but adjusted rapidly and kept his keen night vision on the Unknown-girl's tail and back. The farther down they walked, the cooler it got, until Sanguis was at last comfortable. The desert heat on the city streets had been almost overwhelming.

At last, they emerged in a large chamber dominated by the strange remnants of human habitation. Sanguis did not know this, but he was standing amongst the ruins of Loc Lac's biggest smithy. In the days of the Human-Monster War, it would have been bright, hot, and busy here as a squad of Wyverians pounded metal and monster scales into weapons and armor for hunters. But now… now it was dark, cool, and deserted.

"Sue lives down here to get away from the dryness of the Great Desert," Sera explained. Although her voice was as soft as always, it echoed in the vast empty space. "The climate here isn't for her… she prefers the temperate weather of the Misty Peaks where she was born, or so she tells me. She talks about her homeland a lot… I wonder if she sometimes gets homesick."

Greyish hair flopped atop Sanguis' head as he shook it in disbelief. Although he understood the language, there were so many words that the hybrids used which he did not know the meaning of. 'Homesick' was one. He had a feeling it had to do with another emotion he did not understand.

A soft sound came from off to the left, and both of them turned to see its source emerge from behind a dusty shelf. Their keen eyes picked out the glint of pink silk, and the light reflected off of bubbles skating over the pavement – yes, it was without a doubt the Elite they were looking for.

"Ah, Sera," Sue smiled, bowing. "I have been expecting you. The Pond told me that Duruhos recommended you as a caretaker, so I knew that you would be here soon with questions for me."

"Sssss…" hissed Sanguis, flicking his tongue out. He could taste the flowery woman's scent as well as he could see her in the near pitch-darkness. He didn't know how to describe her odd smell, but he did know that it was very… clean.

The Tamamitsune-woman's fins fluttered when she heard the sound. "So it was the newcomer," she said, more to herself than Sera. "I must confess, I am most curious as to why Duruhos assigned this mysterious creature to one such as yourself."

"He's a Baruragaru," she explained somewhat meekly. "A monster not native to the Great Continent. His name is Sanguis. And… and I'm still not entirely sure why Duruhos asked me first. He said I needed help as much as Sanguis did, but…"

A delicate finger with a claw sharper than a fishhook was placed on her lips, quieting her. "Hush, child," Sue crooned. "I know you come to me when you have questions, and as always, the Pond will hold the answers. Now come, and bring your friend."

She promptly vanished back behind the shelf, leaving nothing but bubbles in her place.

"Come with me, Sanguis," Sera told him, starting forward. "If you have questions, too, then Sue will answer them for you. She's wonderful…"

Her dark outfit blending in perfectly with the shadows, she followed in Sue's footsteps, not reacting when the bubbles on the floor popped and splattered soap on her leggings. She slipped through the gap between the shelf and the wall, knowing the secret passage was there before she saw it. Sanguis darted after her, easily squeezing through the tight space.

The passageway was much narrower than the stairway they had taken to reach the smithy. Sanguis felt right at home, even though he wasn't as good with small spaces as he used to be. His new human body wasn't sinuous enough for the job, but he still managed to do so comfortably.

Eventually, the downwards-sloping tunnel opened up into a relatively cramped, circular chamber lit by a single lantern that dangled from a hook on the ceiling. Sue was sitting on the floor, with her knees in front and her feet underneath her, at the edge of the circle of light produced by the lantern above. In front of her was a small pool of clear water.

"Come, sit with me," Sue said, looking up from her inspection of the pool.

Sera stepped forward and sat down on the opposite side of the pool without hesitation. After a second, Sanguis crept forward and crouched on his hands and knees, dipping his head close to the surface of the water and flicking his tongue out curiously.

"This is her Pond," Sera whispered, prompting him to raise his head to stare blankly at her. "She can see things in it… things like the answers to troublesome questions, or glimpses of the uncertain future."

"Indeed," the Tamamitsune-woman replied, giving her a nod. "But have I ever told you why that is?"

Only silence was her answer.

"My kind has always had a special affinity for the water," she elaborated, casting her eyes back down to the Pond. "We have always guarded the rivers and lakes in the mountainous forests of the Misty Peaks, my kin and I, protecting them from land-dwellers that might mean harm. When they came to drink or bathe, it was out of respect for us that they did so peacefully. And whenever that peace was broken, there was always one of us nearby to drive the troublemakers away.

"The humans that lived in the nearby village didn't think of us as monsters," Sue went on, "not even during the fiercest years of the Human-Monster War. They continued to respect us, believing us to be water spirits that kept the rivers pure and free of strife. And they were not entirely wrong. After generations of maintaining peace between the water and the land, we developed the ability to communicate with the water, more deeply than simply reading its currents and waves. That is partly why I can see such things in the Pond."

It was difficult to see, but Sera's eyes each carried a tiny spark of hope that shone past the dark, perpetual shroud of despair. Indeed, Sanguis did not catch it – but Sue, who knew what to look for, did.

"Is there another reason?" the Unknown-girl murmured.

"Yes," Sue affirmed. "It is rumored that, long ago, beyond the scope of recorded history, the Great Desert was once part of a vast ocean. After hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of years, this is all that remains of that ancient ocean." The water spirit again turned her reverent gaze back to the Pond and smiled. "This water has experienced much over its long, long lifetime. Because of this, I can see more vividly into the Pond than I can in any other source of water. The Pond knows more than any river I have ever touched. It is very wise."

As she spoke, Sanguis realized that his head was spinning. Not literally, of course, but he felt overwhelmed by the strange and confusing things that Sue had spoken of. Seeing things in water? Peaceful water spirits? He had never suspected that such a monster existed.

 _Oh, life before the change was so much simpler,_ he complained to himself.

Sera was speaking again. "Please… please help me, Sue. I've never been so uncertain about myself. Please ask your Pond for the answers. I… I can't be a good caretaker without knowing what I can do to improve."

Was this girl dressed in black really that weak? Sanguis wanted to say that he knew for sure, but every time he asked himself that, his mind flashed back to that moment in Duruhos' residence when her eyes had briefly shone with foreboding crimson light…

 _Seriously, just who is this girl?_

Sue had her eyes closed and her head dipped, while her fins stood erect and trembled slightly as if caught in a soft breeze. Curled around her legs and waist, her tail didn't so much as twitch. She was so still that Sanguis thought she might have fallen asleep, if not for her vibrating fins and the slightly tense expression on her face.

 _How does one 'see' with their eyes closed?_ Sanguis wondered, tilting his head in confusion.

At last, Sue looked up and faced Sera. "There's nothing you need to worry about," she assured the Unknown-girl. "You will become a good caretaker for this boy. You need only follow your instincts."

Once more uncertain, Sera again grabbed her wrist and cast her disappointed gaze down at her lap. "That's all?" she murmured. "I don't know… can I really trust myself with this?"

Her voice was so full of self-doubt that Sanguis felt something inside of him ache. It was another stab of pity, something he did his best to push out of his mind.

"Sera," Sue said, her voice taking on a sharp edge, "do not question yourself. If the Pond saw nothing wrong, then why do you still look upon yourself with doubt and self-loathing? Being a caretaker is not easy, I admit, but it is far from hard. All it takes is diligence and a little love."

"I don't really know what that is…" Sera mumbled, her head dropping until her face was hidden in shadow.

To Sanguis, this statement was trivial.

To Sue, it was an enormous and extremely unpleasant development. Her expression became one of shocked realization. All of a sudden, she had a brand-new, clearer understanding of Sera and the cloud of gloom that surrounded her.

She knew what was to be done. She walked to the other side of the Pond, kneeled down next to Sera, and pulled the girl into a warm embrace. The silky fabric of her kimono rustled slightly as her arms wrapped around her, partially hiding her from view. Sera did nothing but lean her head on Sue's shoulder, her expression like stone. The gesture spoke volumes about how secretly desperate she was for someone to hold onto. Sue felt her heart crack at how pitiful she looked – face neutral but eyes full of pain, her longing for affection made obvious.

"Remember when I was your caretaker?" the Tamamitsune-woman whispered, cradling Sera with the same gentleness as she would hold her own unhatched young. "I told you that you weren't the monster everyone else thinks you are. Demons aren't as sweet and as thoughtful as you. They don't want happiness or love, like I know you do."

Sera's reply was muted and dismal, with a subtle tremble that suggested she was on the verge of tears. "Or maybe they do. Maybe they do want those things, and they're evil because they know they'll never have them. Maybe the others are right…"

Her voice cut itself off when she felt Sue's lips tenderly press against her cheek.

"You're not a demon," she soothed, reaching up to lightly stroke the side of her face. "You're alone in a world where hybrids are supposed to stick together. You're a wonderful girl that only needs time and love to realize that."

The Elite kissed her former charge again and pulled her in closer, making sure that, with every gentle stroke of her hand against the smoothness of Sera's cheek, the love she felt for the damaged Unknown-girl was made crystal-clear.

-.-.-.-.-.

The shock of being on the receiving end of such an affectionate act almost gave Sera a heart attack.

All her life, she had been looked upon as a monstrous beast from the pits of Hell – to put it another way, a wyvern to be hated by all. She had never gotten so much as a smile out of any other living thing, not even when she had transformed and been taken in by a community of creatures that resembled her. Apparently, ordinary humans were very kind and friendly to other humans, but that certainly wasn't what Sera had seen amongst her fellow hybrids. Being turned into beings with higher emotions definitely hadn't altered their prejudiced hatred of the Unknown.

If Sera were asked to describe what her normal emotional state felt like, she would say something to the effect of that it was like being stuck in a shell of stone. She would describe herself as being stoic and numb on the outside, numb from the never-ending effort of keeping her feelings bottled up. Inside said bottle, though, it was a mix of negative emotions that weighed down her spirits and made any sort of motivation difficult. Sera's emotional cauldron was a toxic solution of sadness, hopelessness, angst, and above all, loneliness.

At her very core, fueling the constantly swirling mixture with its burning heat, was rage. All of the anger she had ever felt was buried deep within her so that her negative emotions would act as a buffer to dampen its forever-burning flames. She had built a brittle shell of fear around her anger – the fear of letting it out, and proving that she was everything the others made her out to be.

In short, happiness was not something Sera was used to.

She had always known that Sue liked her, ever since she had first come to Loc Lac and been placed under the Tamamitune-woman's care. The Elite, along with Duruhos, had been the first living being to ever show kindness to her. Back then, Sera had been confused and frightened by the way they treated her, not understanding why they weren't chasing her away or attacking her because of what she was.

Truthfully, she still did not understand, even after years had passed.

But suddenly, as Sue's lips came into contact with her skin, Sera's nerves stretched themselves to their limit. What was she doing? Was something beyond kindness driving the woman to express herself like this?

An odd, warm feeling from deep within made her cauldron of negativity bubble and swirl with confusion. It wasn't her hidden anger trying to break out. She didn't know what it was, and it scared her. The warmth was then almost instantly swallowed up, having died in the concentrated poisons of Sera's inner feelings.

… But strangely, she thought she might have enjoyed it while it lasted.

-.-.-.-.-.

Sanguis sat patiently off to the side, regarding the two females with interest. They seemed to have forgotten about him for the moment, which was fine. This way he could observe them without them noticing.

The older one with the pink fins and tail – Sue – was stranger than he had initially realized. She had this odd, mystical vibe about her that set the Baruragaru on edge. Her strangeness had only grown when she had stared into the water and seemed to have gotten a better understanding of what Sera was asking. Sanguis had no idea how she could apparently gain information from that pool, which definitely wasn't a living thing that could be observed or tasted.

The girl in black with the red spikes – Sera the Unknown – was something else, though. On the outside, she looked and smelled simple enough, but there was this unnerving vibe about her, too. It wasn't a mysterious, calming kind of aura like Sue's, Sanguis recollected. No… it was like a dark blanket of menace that churned up Sanguis' instincts whenever she moved. His inner voices screamed at him that she was dangerous, but the new voices that had appeared with his transformation were saying different things.

On one side, Sanguis wanted to flee as far away from her as he could.

On the other, stronger side, there was this urge to stay by her side and do what he could to assuage the constant despair that saturated her. It was an alien urge that he couldn't – that he _wouldn't_ – understand.

The most mysterious thing of all, though, was how Sue and Sera were interacting now.

"Sssss…" he hissed, tasting them from afar. Ah yes, he understood a little more now, but not much.

He could detect the smell of fear on Sera, which was understandable. When another creature grabbed another like that, it wasn't good. But he could also tell that Sue, aside from smelling clean and flowery, was calmer than a breeze. She was practically radiating with warmth and comfort, like the warm patches of mud that Sanguis used to love sleeping in. Was this act of wrapping her arms around Sera supposed to put her to rest?

He blinked his orange eyes when he witnessed Sue bend her neck and place her mouth on Sera's head. Now _that_ was perplexing. Something told Sanguis that she wasn't trying to eat or taste the other girl.

Just for a moment, when he next sent his tongue out to probe the air, he felt Sera relax for the smallest of instants.

Was that _contentment_?

He wracked his brain for an answer to this strange scenario, even though he knew it was futile. Among his species, mated pairs would twine their necks around each other to express their devotion. Was this a similar thing for humans, even though these two were clearly not mates?

Sanguis felt lost, and it was not a nice experience.

Ever since Sanguis had woken up to find himself in a body that was not his, his mind had been at war with itself. But never had the turmoil been as fierce as it was now. The side he was familiar with was rapidly losing strength against the new, more _curious_ side.

As he watched Sue try to comfort Sera, he asked himself a question. Would it be worth letting his new human instincts win the internal war if he got to survive in this world… and if there was a chance of, maybe, experiencing a moment like the one the pink-clad and dark-clad females were sharing?

-.-.-.-.-.

The door shut with a *click*, and Duruhos turned around to face those he most trusted.

"Are preparations ready?" he asked, seriously.

The response came as a muffled grunt from the largest of the three. "The airship is fit to fly," Ray told him. "I picked the smallest and fastest of the bunch. With a good wind, we could reach Port Tanzia in half a day."

A stray spark from Odon's glowing crest jumped out and lashed Ray's shoulder with a *snap*. The Gamuto-man's trunk let out an icy sneeze that showered the twitchy Elite with snowflakes.

"Hey!" he snapped, swiping at Ray with his sharp wing claws. "Point that thing somewhere else, you big lump of smelly Kelbi fur!"

Wordlessly, Ray leaned to the side to avoid having his heavy clothes torn, then lifted an enormous hand and grabbed the Raizekusu-man by the horn.

Duruhos winced as Odon's cry of pain bounced off the walls and into the open sky. Based purely on Ray's demeanor, Gamutos were silent and independent fanged beasts that did what they wanted without worry of what other monsters thought. However, they obviously didn't approve when said monsters met them with violence.

"This is precisely what we don't want the humans to see," the Rust Duramboros-man sighed wearily. "We want them to think of us as civilized folk that would fit in well with their society – not brutes that are no better off than the creatures we once were."

"Tell that to _him_!" screeched Odon, who thrashed like a caught insect as Ray bent his head back.

A growl came from Cindy, who was sitting in a chair at the back of the room, impatiently dragging her tailblade back and forth over the gritty floor. Any more scraping and the weapon would start glowing with intense heat.

"Shut the hell up, Odon," she snarled, anger radiating from the face behind the mask. "For once use your whiny mouth for something other than nipping us in the backsides."

His addled mind didn't take the hint. He shrieked shrilly, "Go back to the jungle you sulked in, you old fossil!"

"HROOOOOOOOOO!"

The deafening trumpeting sound that cut them both off came from Ray. He lowered his trunk and let it twist itself into a comfortable bun on the back of his head.

"When you're both finished," he huffed, "Duruhos called us to his quarters for a reason."

He got a grateful nod from their leader. Reluctantly, Odon stopped struggling and waited for Ray to let go of him before scampering a safe distance away. Cindy gritted her teeth and visibly relaxed.

"I believe it's high time we take our next step toward peaceful contact with the humans," Duruhos told them, quietly. "I have already sent a note to the Guild-Master of Port Tanzia, a human settlement on the eastern coast of Moga, requesting a meeting with him. His reply came earlier this morning, and he is expecting us some time in the next two days."

There was silence as the Elites digested that.

"You're certain this is going to work out?" Cindy growled. "The war only ended five years ago. Humans may not be entirely used to thinking of monsters as allies, if you get what I'm saying."

"Not to mention our very existence is more than a little suspicious," added Ray. "Monsters don't just become… like us. It would take strong magic to do it. That's why ordinary monsters are so frightened of us. They can feel the magic that surrounds us."

Duruhos nodded at both of them. "I understand your concerns, but the longer we wait, the more we risk being discovered. Better to let them know of our presence ourselves, at least so they know we're civilized ahead of time."

He then turned to Odon. "What about you? Remember, we're all working together on this. Don't you have your thoughts about this decision too?"

The Raizekusu-man cackled. "Duh, of course I do!" he laughed. "You guys usually don't like it when I _do_ chime in with an opinion."

"Wow," remarked Cindy. "Odon actually made a valid point."

Unable to stop himself, Duruhos let a small chuckle escape his mouth. He walked methodically over to his desk, his tail dragging heavily behind him with an audible *ssssssshhhh*. Plucking a twig from the cup on his desk, he chewed on it for a few seconds before turning to face the Elites once again.

"I wish to take two of you with me," he said. "Sue has already made it clear that she is remaining in Loc Lac. Odd, seeing as she would be the most comfortable with a visit to the coast."

Immediately, Ray raised his hand. "I shall go."

"I'm not," Odon griped, shivering his wings and tail. "The thought of the sea just… brr."

"Scared?" sneered Cindy.

He shrugged, for once not flying into a rage at the insensitive jab.

"Guess that means I'm coming along too," the Dinovaldo-woman grumbled. "Two of the most sensible Elite gone, leaving Odon and Spark alone to terrorize those who remain."

Sharply, Duruhos reprimanded her, "Odon knows his place, although you do not give him enough credit to admit that. As for Spark, he and Sue are more than able to discipline him if he causes trouble in our absence."

Cindy nodded, contrite.

"As well," Duruhos continued, stroking his goatee, "I wish to bring along Kumono and Atticus. They are good examples of how monsters can change for the better upon transforming."

The three Elite exchanged glances and all nodded thoughtfully. It was a good, well thought-out decision.

"Anyone else you're bringing along?" Ray rumbled.

"Yes, as a matter of fact," replied the Rust Duramboros-man, now scratching behind one of his horns. "I asked him here a short while ago. He should not be more than another minute…"

Right on cue, there was a knock at the door. Duruhos called to the one on the other side to come in, and a fourth person walked into their midst. He was kind of ordinary-looking for a hybrid, with only a pair of straight tusks and a ridge going down his head and back to distinguish himself for a normal human being. His plain brown shorts and muscle shirt were just as ordinary. However, the Jhen Mohran-boy was probably the most powerful hybrid in Loc Lac City.

"Nice seeing you again, Duruhos," he greeted, looking around the room. "Oh, and you guys too. Haven't met up with you in a while."

"I trust you are doing well?" Duruhos replied, smiling and bowing to his newest guest. "I'm so glad you could spare some time to accompany myself and my friends to this important meeting in Port Tanzia."

"Hey, I'm happy to help," the Mohran-boy said. "I've been guarding this city for five years – guarding _you_ for a few days shouldn't be hard. As long as I feed myself. Goodness, I'm starving right now." He self-consciously rubbed his protruding belly.

"Not this tubby Vespoid-head again," complained Odon, a spasm wracking his armored form as electricity leapt over his wing membranes. "What's his name again? He's so useless I don't even bother remembering!"

"MYAAAAGGGRRRR!" roared Cindy. Suddenly, she was on her feet, metallic mask glinting in the sun. "Useless? _You_ , you overgrown Altaroth, are useless. _This_ hybrid is an elder dragon who has been keeping us safe for longer than _you've_ been here provoking my temper. The reason we've never been discovered by humans yet is _this_ hybrid here. His name, if you _must_ be reminded, is Gulo, and he demands some respect."

-.-.-.-.-.

 **I must admit, I really like Sue's character, which may or may not have something to do with how much I love Tamamitsune already. Sera's another of my favorite characters so far. The two girls have surprisingly deep relationship going on, which I didn't plan initially… it'll be fun to explore that further.**

 **This chapter was initially supposed to focus on the Elite preparing for the next step in their plan to assimilate themselves into human society, but it turned into an angst-y, heartfelt chapter full of fluff and character development. Wow. I honestly didn't see that coming. Sanguis kind of got shoved to the side in favor of Sera, but he still got something out of that whole mother-daughter scene.**

 **And Gulo! What's he doing in Loc Lac, and does Duruhos know who he is? Send reviews and stay tuned!**

 **Remember to check out the timeline/dictionary for "Metamorphosis: Seven Sins" if you're confused about anything! And if that doesn't clear up your questions, review or PM me!**


	10. Pernicious Planning

_**Chapter 10 – Pernicious Planning**_

-.-.-.-.-.

 **Five Years Ago**

Deserted Island was truly deserving of its name. For many thousands of years, it had been home to two famous and prospering human villages. The inhabitants of Moga Village and Yukumo Village lived peaceful, quiet lives on opposite ends of their little landmass, trading with one another and the cities on the mainland.

But as of now, no humans lived here anymore. The disaster that had happened fifty years ago, caused by a couple of terrible and ancient beasts, had wiped out both villages, leaving no survivors.

If there had been any other, minor villages set up on the island after the elder dragons attacked, the recent hurricane would have certainly destroyed them. Now, only hordes of ferocious monsters roamed its forested hills and mountains, living without fear of oppression from human beings.

Or at least, that _would_ be the case, if the centuries-long war between monsters and humans hadn't already ended.

In the moonlight that illuminated the rocky beach, and the salty waves that lapped at its edge, a shadowy figure silently and impatiently walked along the coastline. The humanoid being had been waiting for his comrades for almost an hour now, but there was no sign of any of them.

 _Have they any sense of time?_ he demanded inwardly. _Or have they gotten lost? Or were they… perish the thought… unable to escape? Oh, I hope that is not the case._

Feeling uncomfortably warm, the being shed his cloak, allowing his true form to be illuminated by the moonlight. Any monster that walked by at that moment would have recoiled in horror at the unnatural sight.

The figure resembled a monstrous combination of a human and a Dire Miralis, the legendary beast that was said to have birthed creation. The smooth skin of his face gave way to rocky, ridged features at the edges. Miniature volcanoes sprouted from his head, and a thick tail dragged along the ground at his feet. Beneath his clothes, internal rivers of lava could be seen flowing across his chest, legs, and arms. The disgusting sight was made complete by the volcanic wing plates that extended from his shoulder blades, belching smoke and fire into the sky.

The Miralis-man turned his twisted face towards the water. He thought he detected a stray ripple on the surface, one that wasn't caused by simple tides. _It's probably just a passing Epioth,_ he thought dismissively. _Or a Lagiacrus. There are many more monsters here on Deserted Island, now that the humans have been… dealt with, war or no war._

His face clenched distastefully. He had heard rumors that the human-monster war had ended, but had never believed them to be true until now. The thought of humans and monsters, two very different types of creature, actually making _peace_ with one another made him want to throw up.

 _Monsters are strong, cunning, and fit for survival,_ the Miralis-man thought. _Humans are nothing but sniveling, scrawny cowards. And yet, they still played a part in our defeat… my comrades and I, all those hundreds of years ago…_

Another suspicious ripple appeared on the surface of the bay, but the Miralis-man paid it no heed. It probably wasn't anything worth concerning himself over.

But he was proven wrong right then and there. In a sudden spray of briny water, a figure just as monstrous as the Miralis-man emerged from the surf and waded towards shore. He was a boy that looked to be in his late teens, with thick, tangled blonde hair matted with seawater. All he wore were a monocle over his right eye and a pair of baggy pants. On his bare chest and abdomen, a series of bioluminescent markings glowed blue. The horns of a Ceadeus emerged from his head – the right horn was normal-sized and didn't cause him any harm, but the left horn was much larger and grew over his eye. A long, fluked tail swished back and forth behind him, stirring up frothy waves in the water.

"It has been a long time, Superbius," said the Ceadeus-boy. "I was beginning to wonder if the call to escape would never come."

The Spirit of Pride nodded. "I apologize for not having completed my plan sooner, Ace," he said. "However, perfection takes a long time to achieve, and that is exactly what my plan is – perfect."

Superbius smiled at the grotesque sight of his companion. Once, Ace had been an ordinary human being – indeed, so had he, and so had the others. But the evil nature of dark magic had dire consequences for those who practiced it carelessly. It twisted the heart of the sorcerer, quenched his morals and saturated his very life force… and turned him into a demon.

"Says you," Ace yawned tiredly, scratching his glowing chest. "I might be a slacker, but even I think a millennium is too long."

The volcanoes adorning Superbius' head and wings erupted in unison for a brief moment. "You don't know what it's like to be trapped in the confines of the strictest cell in the underworld and subjected to the vilest punishments imaginable. The security placed upon you was a lot less severe!"

Ace snorted. "It's always about you, isn't it?" he muttered. His shining markings flushed an angry red in annoyance. "You need to learn to swallow that enormous pride of yours."

About to snap at his comrade, the Spirit of Pride suddenly stopped as the ocean breeze picked up significantly. But something wasn't right about this wind – it felt ominous and tinged with danger, like the soft wind that heralds a devastating storm. His eyes narrowed, but Ace allowed a soft smile to cross his face.

Another gust of wind picked up, this one much stronger than the last. Then, before their very eyes, a teenaged girl floated down from the sky above and landed lightly on her feet. Instead of resembling a monstrosity like her companions, the girl was extremely beautiful – she had silky, waist-length hair and flawless skin, and wore nothing but a flowing skirt and a band of fabric that was barely enough to cover her well-endowed chest. Her arms and head were adorned with elegant fins that blew in the breeze, and she seemed to hover rather than stand. Two golden, curving horns extended up over her forehead, and the serpentine tail of an Amatsumagatsuchi grew out from her attractive rear.

Inwardly, Superbius was grinning. He couldn't help but feel a jolt of pride whenever he laid eyes on the Amatsu-girl, the one who had returned to her home of Yukumo Village so that she could lay waste to it once and for all.

The Amatsu-girl smiled widely as she regarded her two allies – and one in particular. "Hello again, handsome," she whispered to Ace, slipping her slender arms around his neck. Her tail reached out and tenderly coiled around his arm. She giggled and added flirtatiously, "Just as strong as I remember."

"You flatter me, my dear Luxi," he murmured with a soft smile, lightly gripping her uncovered middle and drawing her closer to him. "I don't even work out."

"Yes, because we were all locked up in those nasty cells of ours for centuries on end," she said sympathetically, pouting. She lightly ran her clawed fingers through his tangled hair.

"And because he's a complete sloth," Superbius coughed on the sidelines.

"But at least our confines weren't as bad as some of the others, were they?" Luxi continued, ignoring him. She took her hand away from Ace's head and started stroking his chest instead. "We managed to escape for a while around fifty years ago, didn't we, Acey?"

Ace smirked at the memory. "I remember that night well," he replied. "Our last date. Didn't we destroy the villages here on this very island? I sank Moga Village, and you scattered Yukumo to the winds. Sweet justice on the settlements that banished us in ages past."

A broad, bloodthirsty smile twisted the Amatsu-girl's otherwise lovely face. "Oh, the _destruction_ ," she snickered. "There's no music quite like the sweet sound of terrified screams, now is there?"

"Not at all," the object of her affection replied. "Except the sound of your voice, that is." The eye uncovered by his horn twinkled as he leaned closer to brush his nose with hers.

"You're far too kind to me, sweetheart," Luxi breathed lustfully, leaning in until she was only a lip's distance away from him. "Now why don't you and I find somewhere secluded so we can pick up where we left –"

Before their romance could go on any further, the earth trembled beneath them. The three beings only had a second to get out of the way before the ground exploded, throwing up rocks, dirt, and water up as far as the eye could see.

From the bottomless pit that was thusly revealed, a creature more monstrous than even Superbius crawled. The Akantor-woman stood to her full height, a vicious snarl on her face and her unscarred eye glinting with hatred. Her hands and feet were armed with wickedly sharp talons, and her thick black tail had vicious hooks on the end. Twin tusks, solid black with a bronze tint, protruded from her mouth, making her appear horrifyingly brutal. The woman's ebony hair was wildly curled and extended halfway down her back, its gloss constantly shifting and swirling like an inferno, but an inferno with deep, dark flames. A multitude of sharp spines protruded from her scalp and rose above her curls.

"Remind me why I allied myself with you sorry beings," she said in a growl that vibrated dangerously. "Almost two thousand years, and its only now when you decide it's time to break out."

"Oh, Ira, it's not like we could get through the security measures placed on you," chirped Luxi. "Weren't you condemned to eternal dismemberment? You know, having your limbs continuously ripped off and reattached? Oh, someday, I'll figure out how to do that to others…"

Her beautiful eyes suddenly flickered with bloodlust. Ira was an intimidating figure, but Luxi was scary in an entirely different way. She might not be as mentally unstable as the Akantor-woman, but indeed, it was her intact cunning that made her a girl to be feared.

"I should've known you wouldn't understand," Ira growled. "How about I tear _your_ arms off and see how _you_ like it?"

Hastily, Superibus tried to intervene. "Now's really not the time to –"

"That should be a laugh," Luxi sneered. "I'd still be prettier than you with bloody stumps for arms."

"Bite me," Ira snarled.

The Amatsu-girl gave her a sadistic grin, razor-sharp teeth gleaming in the moonlight. "Don't tempt me."

Without any warning, a bitterly cold breeze swept across the beach and caused them all to shiver violently. The argument was broken off entirely, as the approach of another spirit was felt by all.

"Ah, Invi is here," murmured Superbius. He averted his gaze slightly upwards as if expecting her to float down into view like Luxi had.

As if in response to his statement, the wind increased in intensity, wrapping around them like a deathly cold blanket. Ice formed on the damp rocks beneath their feet, and ice floes began to form and bob in the choppy waters of the bay. Snow fell and whirled around in the wind, creating a blizzard. Superbius' volcano-like wings were the only things that managed to produce enough light and pierce the all-consuming cloud.

And from the thickest part of the snowstorm, a slim figure melted out of the foggy whiteness. At first, the girl seemed ordinary – but it was only when she got closer, and her features more distinguishable, that one could see the jagged, spade-shaped crest that rose up from her forehead and the white tail that dragged behind her. She wore a simple white dress without sleeves, but was unaffected by the cold that pervaded the coastline. Her eyes were the iciest shade of blue imaginable, so frigid that they made even Superbius' spine shiver.

The Spirit of Envy was pretty and delicate. But she was deadly too, no doubt about that. In fact, Superbius could remember that the Ukanlos-girl, upon being corrupted by the black magic she sought to control, froze her entire village solid out of pure spite. He sometimes wondered if she ever considered killing her comrades, and was always thankful when another day passed without her doing so.

But not everyone was as afraid as he was.

"Invi…" growled Luxi, and her tail lashed even as her skirt whipped in the wind. "You know how sensitive I am."

The Ukanlos-girl, upon hearing Luxi speak to her, turned her frigid glare toward her least favorite target. "Luxxxxi…" she hissed softly. "If there wassss one thing I enjoyed about being imprissssoned, it wassss that I didn't have to put up with you."

Despite his dislike of the newcomer, Ace stepped in between them. "Can we please be a little less hostile?" he asked. "This is the first time we've seen each other in many years, so couldn't we just be friendlier?"

Invi's nostrils flared in annoyance. "Sssshut up, Acccce," she breathed. "Why not go ssssuck up to your girlfriend sssso I don't have to lissssten to you?"

" _Jealous_ , Invida?" smirked Luxi, snickering at her joke. To add insult to injury, she flung her arms around Ace and planted an exaggerated kiss on his cheek.

"You sssstupid…" Invi hissed, raising her wickedly clawed hands threateningly.

Before Invi could freeze her rival spirit solid, a noise like the sound of a hundred screams curled out into the air, and the snowstorm Invi had produced dissipated entirely. Clouds blotted out the moon, enshrouding the beach in darkness. At the same time, a series of small earthquakes rocked the coastline.

"It appears our last two companions have arrived," growled Ira. "How wonderful for us all."

Right on cue, a bolt of black lighting flashed down from the heavens and struck the ground in front of them, causing a rush of energy that physically pushed them back a few steps. Everything became pitch-black when the lightning hit, but for only an instant. The light slowly faded back into existence, allowing the five beings to see the two they were missing.

The taller one was clad in a formal black suit and had a devilish grin on his face, revealing razor-sharp fangs lining the inside of his mouth. His spiny tail lashed at nothing, a pair of dark, ragged wings unfolded behind him, and two heavy horns studded with spikes rose up from the back of his head and swept over to his forehead. An aura of shadow surrounded the Alatreon-man, darkening the air around him.

The other was a teenager that looked about Ace's age. He was shorter than the Alatreon-man, but not by much, and was much stockier. His bare feet were covered in grime, dirt, and grass stains, and he wore sandy brown pants and a muscle shirt of the same color. Running over his head and down his back was a mountain-like ridge, and the tusks of a Jhen Mohran extended from the sides of his head and projected out two feet in front of him. The ground seemed to buckle under the Mohran-boy's weight.

"Hello again, comrades," the Alatreon-man formally murmured. The creepy grin splitting his face in two never faltered. His pitch-black orbs flicked over to Invi, and his smirk grew wider. "And you, my queen, are as lovely as ever on his spectacular night."

With an elegant bow, he took the hand of the girl in white and lightly touched his lips to it – only for her to snarl at him and slash her claws across his cheek, drawing long lines of blood across the paleness of his face. For all Invi knew (or cared), he was flirting and nothing more. Luxi was far more beautiful than she was, so why even bother with her?

"Get out of my ssssight, Avari," she told him, coldly. "Or I sssshall presssent you with far worsssse than a couple of sssscratchessss."

Avari was much amused at her threat, not concerned in the least. Part of the deal that they had accepted almost two thousand years ago was that they would not bring harm to any of their companions. Due to it being sealed by their own magic, any intended or non-intended injuries inflicted by any of one's fellows would be instantly healed. As such, Avari stopped bleeding in seconds.

The Mohran-boy regarded his teammates as if that argument wasn't going on at all. "Is it ever good seeing you guys again!" he exclaimed. "After a really long time in captivity, you are certainly a sight for sore eyes."

Ace nudged the Amatsu-girl beside him. "But you're always a sight for _any_ pair of eyes," he told her.

"Oh, you," Luxi giggled modestly.

Superbius stepped forward to greet the newcomers. "Yes, it is good seeing you alive and well after so many centuries, Avari and Gulo."

"We're all free at last," the Spirit of Greed smirked, folding his wings behind him. "And that means we can finally finish what we started. Together," he added to Invi, who scowled.

"Yeah, the destruction of the human race!" enthused the Spirit of Gluttony, stomping his foot determinedly and causing the ground to shudder.

"But it will not be easy," Superbius continued, frowning. "Remember, we already failed once."

Ira nodded, her hair beginning to sizzle as she remembered those dreadful times. "And it was the White Fatalis who interfered, the great godly imbecile," she snarled. "Sure, a bunch of scrawny human beings with their idiotic toothpick weapons were there to help, but it was that tyrant who played the main part in our failure."

"The White Fatalis believes in peace," Luxi sneered. "And apparently, peace involves not messing with the relationships between monsters and humans."

"So pointless," Ace muttered, either with disdain or weariness. On the Sin of Sloth, it was always hard to tell. "Humans are worthless. Monsters are the superior race, and they should have total domination over this world."

Giving his companions a wise nod, Superbius stepped forward to address them all. "My friends, as much as I hate to say this, we have underestimated the intelligence and general success of sentient beings," he told them. "Yes, the White Fatalis was the one who ultimately defeated and imprisoned us, but it was humans and their allies who weakened us to the point where defeat and capture by him was inevitable."

He paused, allowing silence to settle over the coast as the other spirits digested this.

"The Eye of Fatalis," Ace said, abruptly. "We're going to need it. With it, we can regain our original powers."

Avari shook his head. "But the White Fatalis is almost definitely keeping a close watch on the Sky Corridor, now that we've tried to make use of its powers twice."

The air around Ira wavered as her hair started smoldering again. "We straight up invaded the Sky Corridor and took our prize without trouble," she stated, glowering at the Alatreon-man. "Let's just do it again! Only this time, we'll kill him first, so he can't interfere!"

"I admire your… spirit, Ira," Superbius replied, slowly. "But as we've all learned, and myself with most reluctance, that the White Fatalis and his siblings are a force that not even we can reckon with. We will need to take a cleverer approach."

"Not Tartu again," hissed Invi. She shook snow off of her crown and continued, "We agreed after he betrayed ussss that lesssser beingssss are too sssstupid and greedy to be trussssted."

She had a very good point. Even Luxi could admit that. Several decades ago, the seven spirits had reached out from Hell with their minds to influence the sole surviving member of the Phobos Tribe – the barbaric ancient people that had started the Human-Monster War in the first place. While the war raged, they had given Tartu the knowledge of the Sky Corridor and what lay within it. He had successfully stolen the Eye of Fatalis, but decided to use it for himself to conquer the Great Continent, summoning a monstrous serpent called Raviente to obliterate the White Fatalis.

The attempt had been less than successful. Raviente was defeated and chased back to Solitude Island, and the one they now called the "Hero" had destroyed the Eye of Fatalis. Once the White Fatalis repaired the magical artifact, he turned on Tartu and incinerated him, ending the legacy of the Phobos Tribe once and for all – and turning his attention back to the imprisoned Seven Deadly Sins.

"You're right, Invi," replied Superbius. "Relying on others turned out to be foolish, as it simply made our imprisoner more wary of us. Somehow, he knew it was us pulling the strings."

"Not your smartest plan," Gulo observed, wincing.

Invi nodded, although reluctantly. "We musssst act with more caution. We need the Eye, but we sssshould disssstract the White Fatalissss before we make our move. The only quesssstion issss… how sssshall we do that?"

With a glance at the Ukanlos-girl, Superbius answered, "That is correct – we cannot make such a direct move this time, as it will almost certainly spell our doom. Fortunately, I have thought of a solution to both of our problems. Namely, the ingenuity of humankind, and the Ancestor himself."

He paused once again, this time for dramatic effect, drinking in the attention that the other Sins were giving him.

"Shall I go on?" he added, smirking. His wings belched smoke into the air with an audible sizzle.

"FOR GOODNESS' SAKE, YES!" Ira bellowed.

Superbius chuckled. Oh, how the Spirit of Wrath amused him. "I'm sure that you have realized from our last plan that your enemies can be a valuable resource to exploit," he began. "Take Tartu for example – yes, he was a delusional idiot that never would have ruled the world even if the so-called 'Hero' had not defeated him, but he came close to his goal."

"Are you saying that we're going to be using humans to carry out our plans _again_?" Gulo asked, wrinkling his nose. "I've eaten things that didn't stink as much as that idea."

"Not quite, my ever-hungry companion," the Spirit of Pride corrected him. "Yes, humans are involved, but they only make up half of what I have in mind. We will obtain the Eye of Fatalis, brothers and sisters – by combining the great brainpower of humans with the undeniable superiority of monsters."

Everyone exchanged skeptical looks. This plan of his seemed a little bit farfetched – while they knew that it was important to learn how to use your enemy to your best advantage, they just couldn't fathom the idea of combining humans and monsters in _any_ way.

"How are we going to do this, Superbius?" asked Avari.

"I'm calling it Project M," the Miralis-man claimed, grinning proudly at his own genius. "Or, if you must… Project Metamorphosis."

He explained the plan in its full entirety. While unbelieving at first, the other six beings slowly began to see how truly insidious and brilliant this 'Project M' was. On the face of it, it seemed like an impossible idea – but when Superbius explained it, it seemed frighteningly simple. At the end of his explanation, all seven of them had identical, evil smiles plastered on their faces.

"The humansss won't know what hit them," Invi murmured.

"This is going to be _fun_ ," Luxi giggled, sadistically.

"I have to admit, this plan isn't worthless," growled Ira.

Ace was frowning. "You think we have the right kind of magic for this?" he asked. "It sounds like it'll take a lot of work… and I hate work."

"I'm sure our leader knows what he's doing," Avari said diplomatically. "If he says we can do it, than I believe that we can as well."

The Ceadeus-boy nodded, adjusting his monocle as it threatened to slip free. "Then I think it'll be worth our while," he said with finality.

Superbius gave them a genuine smile. "So, I can trust your full cooperation in this?" he asked. "Gulo, can you remember the part you have to play?"

"Sure," the spirit in question replied. "Loc Lac City, right? Hey, as long as I get fed, I'm happy to go along with this."

Wordlessly, the six assembled before Superbius exchanged glances and nodded in unison. They immediately knew what was to be done now. Each of them stepped forward, their right hands glowing with a different elemental power each.

"Sloth," Ace yawned, extending his hand, which shone with the power of the Water element.

"Greed," Avari snickered, bringing forth the power of Dragon.

"Lust," added Luxi, contributing her element of Wind.

"Gluttony," Gulo chuckled, adding the power of Earth.

"Wrath," growled Ira, her hand shining with the power of Darkness.

"Envy," breathed Invi, completing the circle of hands with her element of Ice.

Finally, Superbius stepped forward and placed his fist atop those of his six comrades. His hand swirled with a blazing, roiling kind of energy – the energy of the Fire element.

"And Pride," he finished.

A burst of combined elemental energy radiated out from their union and exploded outward. Multicolored streaks of light shot out in all directions before exploding simultaneously into sparkles that shimmered in the moonlight. It was an amazing sight, but one that heralded the coming of an ancient evil. The waters of the bay were churned up into white-capped waves, storm clouds began to fill the sky, and the wind built in intensity until a shrieking gale was blowing across Deserted Island.

Everywhere, monsters of all shapes and sizes fled into their dens, nests, and undersea hideaways. A Qurupeco ducked into its clifftop cave, Ludroth fled en masse into the open ocean, and even a wandering Deviljho – normally a creature to be feared, and not fear – rampaged away in blind terror. They all sensed instinctively that something that should never have existed had indeed been unleashed, something straight from the foul depths of Hell, and that this brewing hurricane was only the start of a much greater maelstrom to come.

Indeed, it was the beginning… the beginning of the end.

-.-.-.-.-.

 **The Seven Deadly Sins are back and badder than ever, baby! Well… five years ago.**

 **I'm so sorry about how long it took me to get this chapter ready. I was on vacation, then school hit me like a tidal wave, then I got sick… so I do hope you can forgive my long absence. I just haven't had much time to write is all.**

 **But on a lighter note, MONSTER HUNTER GENERATIONS YESSSSSSSSSSS**

 **Send reviews, and check out the timeline/dictionary for "Metamorphosis: Seven Sins" if you're confused about anything! If that doesn't clear up your questions, PM me!**


	11. Rushed Return

_**Chapter 11 – Rushed Return**_

-.-.-.-.-.

 **Present Day**

"Nuts," Phisto muttered, burying his nose deeper in the newspaper he had brought along specifically for the trip back home.

The mission had been a failure, he was the first to admit. A thorough search of the Swamp's cave network hadn't even turned up a single scale of Phisto's mystery monster. It had only left behind a puddle of blood in the spot where the Docks boy had left it writhing in pain. That meant it wasn't dead – although Phisto wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

So now, they were on the road back to Mezeporta.

"It's alright," Zald assured him, clapping an armored hand to his shoulder. "There was no guarantee that your monster would still be in the same spot after you left it. It _has_ been several days since you met it, after all."

"Yes, but we didn't find any sign of it whatsoever, not even after checking the surrounding area," droned Dozer. He sounded bored, probably because he was reading a thick, well-used botany book with scribbled notes and tabs sticking out of various places.

Mircon fidgeted, fishing a large insect out of his armor. "Is anyone else reminded of that Chameleos that up and vanished on us earlier this week?"

"The one who didn't even leave behind its tracking signal behind?" Zald replied, sarcastically. "Or are we referring to some other dragon?"

"Enough," muttered Caela, tossing her pink hair. "This long trek home has left us exhausted, and you're starting to squabble like children."

"But Mircon has a point," Phisto interrupted, then immediately turned red when Caela turned her questioning gaze toward him. "Um, sorry for speaking out of turn."

The young Wyverian shook her head. "No, no, you have as much a right to speak your mind as any of us. Go ahead."

He flashed her a grateful and somewhat giddy smile, one that his friend Catry rolled his eyes at. "It's just that we didn't even find footprints," he said, a bit worriedly. "And there weren't any drag marks to indicate if another monster found its body and carried it away. Don't you find that a little weird?"

"A bit," agreed Catry. "But I wouldn't be too concerned if I were you. Just look on the bright side – at least we know it isn't dead, right?"

"Is that really a bright side?" interjected Zald. "I mean, we all know about the Hero and the Vengeful Gobul."

Phisto shuddered. As much as he liked hearing stories about the legendary Hero that brought an end to the Human-Monster War, he hated hearing about the Gobul that supposedly pursued him tirelessly to seek vengeance for what he did to its eye. As the stories went, this 'Vengeful Gobul' was so persistent that there wasn't a place it wouldn't travel to find and kill its nemesis. Now that the Hero was gone – no one knew if he was alive or dead – the Vengeful Gobul seemed to have vanished as well. But there were unconfirmed sightings all over the Great Continent.

"Yeah," Zald continued, nodding agreeably as if someone else had brought up that fact. "If your monster is still alive, Phisto, it might try and seek revenge."

"Come on," snorted Catry. "The Vengeful Gobul is just an old ghost story that hunters told around their campfires. It's ridiculous to believe that a monster could be so obsessed with its own hate and anger that it would chase one person to Hell and back just to pay him back for a stupid eye injury."

"You're right," agreed Caela. "It's quite far-fetched. And there's no real evidence to prove any of the sightings. A Gobul can't survive for long without plentiful water, so they stay in the Flooded Forest where the conditions are best for their lifestyle."

There was the sound of the Guild-Master clearing his throat, and everyone fell silent so they could hear him speak.

"Now that's enough going on about old stories that may or may not be true," he rasped, coughing lightly. "I assure you, I've never heard of a confirmed sighting of a Gobul outside its natural habitat – and anyway, Gobuls are typically quite peaceful unless you disturb them. Admittedly, that's easy to do because they camouflage themselves in the ground most of the time, but enough about that. Phisto, I forgot to mention that I have a special mission for you that I would like you to undertake immediately when we get back to town."

A special mission from the Guild-Master _on top of_ an invitation to join him and these distinguished researchers to the Sky Corridor? Would the day's surprises never end for poor Phisto?

"Wh-What kind of mission, sir?" he asked, attempting to keep his voice steady. Truth be told, he was rapidly being overwhelmed by this strange favoritism that the Guild-Master was treating him to.

Caela noticed, and gave her grandfather a frown. But it appeared that he didn't notice it, his full attention currently on the teenager.

"It's that time of year again," the elder informed him, sighing. "The Hermitaurs have underwent a population boom in the region of the Desert. As you know, carapaceons often lay thousands of eggs at one time, so if these eggs go largely untouched, the damage done by the newborns can be catastrophic. I know monster hunting is a part of the war none of us want to go back to, but can you please slay as many Hermitaurs as you can?"

Phisto hesitated. He never wanted to back to monster hunting, as it was a grim reminder of his activities in Loc Lac City before he and Catry had been banished, and some of his worst injuries prior to coming to Mezeporta had been acquired as a consequence of monster hunting. But the Guild-Master was right – Hermitaurs could be dangerous in large numbers, and if this group was as large as the old Wyverian suggested, it could throw the Desert into chaos.

"Alright then," the Docks boy affirmed. He placed a hand on his Great Sword, the Carmine Blade, which sat beside him in the cart. "I'll prepare to journey to the Desert once we arrive."

"Good," the Guild-Master said, a smile spreading across his wrinkly face.

The group soon fell back into silence, no one uttering a word as the Burukku-drawn cart bounced and jostled slightly as it was pulled along the uneven terrain. They had left the caves and mudflats behind, and were now traveling through the more forested areas. All around them, skeletal trees rose up to scratch at the cloudy sky, while wet grass covered the ground below them. The occasional cluster of weeds or mushrooms rose up from the soil, providing little splashes of color to brighten up the otherwise plain grey carpet of grass.

"Uh-oh," Phisto suddenly piped up, blinking at his newspaper.

"What's up?" Catry asked. He yawned and sat up a bit straighter.

Rustling the pages of his newspaper, Phisto said ominously, "You're not going to like this, Catry. Apparently there have been Deviljho sightings here in the Frontier."

" _WHAT_?!"

Instantly, the Bones boy was fully awake. Phisto could understand his reaction perfectly – for the two Mogan natives, no monster was as recognizable or infamous as the dreaded Deviljho.

"Understandable," Mircon said. "Deviljho _are_ nomads, after all. I'm sure it was only a matter of time before some of them let their hunger guide them farther away from the Moga region than usual."

"Farther than usual?" demanded Catry. "Moga is on the other side of the continent! Part of the reason I was glad to move to the Frontier was because it meant no more living in fear of encountering a Deviljho on our wanderings!"

Very exasperated, Phisto threw his newspaper to the floor of the cart and gave his friend a withering look. "Catry, please. We're not going to encounter one now. We never met up with one at all since we were banished, remember? They are very rare brute wyverns. The odds are just too –"

"DRRAAAAAAARRRGGGHH!"

The roar that exploded from somewhere in the near distance cut Phisto's words off abruptly. All at once, everyone was alert, reaching for their weapons in case the unknown monster was closer than they thought.

It was indeed.

Two seconds later, the trees in front of them were knocked down, and they found themselves staring at a huge saurian that looked kind of like a giant pickle with too many teeth to fit in its muzzle.

"You and your big mouth!" Catry shouted at Phisto, who blanched.

The Deviljho roared again, long ropes of saliva flying from its jaws. Their Burukku reared onto its hind legs and bellowed with panic, threatening to tip the cart. The researchers all hung on for dear life as the startled herbivore bolted, running for its life while dragging its passengers along for the ride. Automatically, the Deviljho rushed after them, gaining ground ridiculously fast due to its long, powerful strides.

"Get control of the Burukku and hide!" Zald told the two Wyverians. "We've got weapons – we'll buy you time to escape by confronting this menace."

"Are we even skilled enough to take on a Deviljho?" Phisto asked uncertainly.

"Don't worry!" assured Dozer. "We'll all work together to keep each other alive until the Guild-Master and Caela can get to safety."

 _Keep each other alive,_ Phisto repeated the words in his head. _Mm, not comforting._

"On three!" Mircon shouted, never taking his eyes off the advancing Deviljho – now so close to them that they could see the whites of its beady little eyes. "One… two… three…!"

In unison, the five of them leapt out of the cart and unsheathed their weapons. Phisto looked around at his allies – aside from his Carmine Blade, there was Catry's Great Sword, Mircon's Longsword, Zald's Gunlance, and Dozer's Hammer. Traditional monster hunts were carried out in groups of four or less, but this was no mere hunt, it was a fight for survival.

"Eat this, you big meaty vegetable!" yelled Dozer, getting the Deviljho's attention. He charged forward with his Hammer held high – its design was recognizable as a Huracan Hammer, made from Rathalos scales. He let fly with a mighty backswing, smacking the brute wyvern right in its chin.

Another roar tore through the air as the Deviljho reeled from the painful blow, its head soaring high into the air thanks to the power behind Dozer's swing. Stumbling a bit, its muscles began to swell under its skin, adding hints of angry red to the usual dull green of its scales.

"Now it knows we mean business!" Dozer grinned.

"I-Is that a good thing?!" squeaked Phisto.

Without warning, the Deviljho pounced, its entire body leaving the ground for a split second before it crashed into the party of five. They scattered so that they wouldn't be crushed and immediately began their counterattack, knowing that the Deviljho could only focus on one of them at a time. Zald stabbed at the dinosaur's tough hide with her Gunlance, although she only managed to give it minor scratches thanks to its muscles being so hard to pierce. Dozer kept distracting the Deviljho by staying near its head, ducking out of the way of its jaws every time it tried to make a mouthful of him. Phisto, Catry, and Mircon all kept near the legs, trying to catch it off balance.

All the Deviljho could feel were their sharp weapons slicing through its scales and delivering stinging blows to the skin underneath. Yet another roar tore out of its maw as it stood tall and gathered draconic energy inside of its mouth.

"Dragon breath!" yelled Zald, raising her sturdy shield.

The enraged brute wyvern lowered its head and let fly with a massive burst of reddish-black energy. This was a form of elemental attack called "Dragon element", and it was largely unknown how it occurred in nature. There were berries that could be picked from Dragonfell plants that contained Dragon element, and most monsters hated them. Dragon element was also associated with elder dragons and powerful wyverns – whether they used the element or were repelled by it. Other than that, though, the origins and true nature of the Dragon element was unknown.

All Phisto knew was that getting hit with concentrated Dragon element would _not_ be healthy.

Sticking the blade of his Great Sword into the ground and propping it up, the Docks boy used it as a makeshift shield as the Deviljho's dragon breath swept across the Swamp. When the blast touched his weapon, he grimaced and braced himself as the impact rattled him. Red-and-black sparks danced over his giant sword and even his arms, which caused unpleasant tingling sensations as the energy was partially absorbed by his Jaggi-skin armor.

None of the researchers had been harmed by the Deviljho's breath. They all peeked out from behind their weapons, shields, or whatever cover they had otherwise found. Immediately, they noticed that the Deviljho had settled down somewhat, its muscles no longer prominent, its nasty saliva leaking from its mouth onto the ground. The sudden burst of rage had clearly tired it out.

"Mircon, Flash Bomb!" ordered Dozer.

Without hesitation, Mircon reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sphere. It was a tool intended for defensive purposes – such as when a monster attacked unexpectedly and the researcher needed an opening to retreat. Mircon threw it at the Deviljho, where it exploded with a blinding burst of light that flooded everyone's vision with white.

Phisto blinked rapidly for several seconds, trying to wipe the spots from his eyes. When he came to, the Deviljho was rocking back and forth in a daze, growling lowly and shaking its head in an attempt to clear its vision. Now, while it was helpless, was the time to make the critical decision – would it be better to flee, or finish it off?

"Run!" prompted Zald, clipping her Gunlance onto her back. "It'll be occupied for a few seconds, so we can make our escape now!"

"I agree!" added Catry. "Every second we spend in this thing's presence is a second more than I'd like to experience!"

"But if we run, it'll sniff us out and pursue!" Mircon retorted. "And who knows how much of the Swamp it'll destroy in the process! We should end its life right here!"

"He's right!" snapped Dozer, hefting his Huracan Hammer. "It's too dangerous to be kept alive!"

"NO!" Phisto screamed over all of them. "We're not hunters anymore! The war is over! We defended ourselves when the Deviljho attacked, and now we have the opportunity to get away! Wouldn't continuing the fight be exactly the kind of thing that would start another war?"

Silence descended amongst the researchers as they digested his words.

But they didn't have the opportunity to act on them, because at that moment, the effects of the Flash Bomb wore off and the Deviljho's vision came back to it. Drooling even more thickly now, the brute wyvern took a heavy step forward and bore down on Zald, the least defended and nearest to it. She yelled with fear and hastened to grab her Gunlance, but fumbled for the handle.

"BRRAAAAAAAYYYY!"

The bushes exploded as something huge and green burst forth. In the blink of an eye, it had crossed the distance between it and the Deviljho and smashed into it with a powerful tackle. Caught off guard, the Deviljho toppled to the ground as the newcomer raised its head and unleashed its braying roar.

"Abiorugu!" gasped Dozer.

"It must have been attracted by the Flash Bomb!" Catry realized.

The Abiorugu was like a dinosaurian crocodile, with thick green scales and long jaws filled with gleaming teeth. Diamond-shaped plates lined its backbone, while a pair of threatening crests protruded from its head. Its most telling feature was the bright orange blade set on the end of its tail. Although the species only stood half as tall as the Deviljho, Abiorugus were still a frightening sight to any who came across them on their wanderings throughout the Frontier.

A deeper roar tore apart the sound barrier as the Deviljho rolled onto its feet and entered its enraged state again, red sparks crackling around its mouth and muscles threatening to burst through its skin. It snapped at the Abiorugu, but the smaller brute wyvern agilely sidestepped and swung its tail, cutting its ravenous enemy across the muzzle. Blood rained onto the grass.

"You still want to stick around, guys?" Zald asked, sarcastically. Despite her tone, she was trembling from her close brush with death.

"Nope, we've had our fill of action!" Mircon replied.

Sheathing his weapon, Phisto decided, "Let's catch up with the Guild-Master and get out of here as fast –"

And then the Abiorugu landed in their path, hissing with pain as it tried to right itself. Several of its teeth were missing, probably having been smacked out of its jaw from the Deviljho's thick tail. The bigger wyvern pounced with its powerful legs, landing on top of the helpless Abiorugu. Its feet pinned its victim to the ground as its jaws reached down to clamp onto its head, ignoring the struggles.

"Now's our chance!" shouted Catry.

"But the Abiorugu…!" Phisto protested, weakly.

"Better it than us!" his friend told him, grabbing his hand and pulling him after the other researchers. "Now let's _move_!"

His shout came just as the sounds of the Abiorugu's futile attempts at escape ceased. The Deviljho heard loud and clear, and raised its bloodstained muzzle to peer after them. Reacting to their movement, it unleashed its sky-shattering roar and charged after them. It was obvious that acquiring an appetizer was its priority before starting on the main course.

Phisto turned around and saw the monster nearly on top of him and Catry. He gasped, then squeezed his eyes shut and threw his arms up over his face in anticipation of the bone-crushing bite that was surely only moments away.

But he didn't count on a second Abiorugu, which had heard its partner's cries for help, suddenly appearing and sinking its teeth into the Deviljho's neck.

Bellowing in pain, the larger wyvern was thrown into a nearby stand of trees from the force of the Abiorugu's attack. Its claws slipped on the slick grass, and the Abiorugu drove it to the ground with its specially-designed fangs piercing deeply into its tough flesh. However, the Deviljho tore itself free before long and swatted its attacker away with its tail, blood flowing freely from its numerous wounds.

At this point, even Catry had stopped running, instead standing there beside Phisto with shock and awe colliding on his face. The second Abiorugu was larger and more majestic than the first, with bright red horns sticking out from the ends of its crests and jutting out from its lower jaw. More brilliant spikes stuck out from the sides of its tail, which was shaped like an axe instead of a sword. It was then that Phisto and Catry realized that they were observing a "Hardcore" monster – a powerful and experienced creature of the kind the Frontier region was infamous for.

The Deviljho got to its feet and stumbled, fatigue and blood loss beginning to have an effect on it. It lunged, jaws open wide, only to receive a stunning slap from the Abiorugu's deadly tail. The hooked spines tore across the Deviljho's scales, leaving ugly wounds behind. The Hardcore monster followed up its attack by turning back around and belching crimson flames that engulfed the Deviljho's muzzle.

While the Deviljho waved its tiny arms in a useless attempt to rid itself of the flames burning its eyes and snout, the Hardcore Abiorugu raised its tail high into the air, the tip of which glinted brightly when a random ray of sunlight illuminated it. The axe-shaped blade was brought down with enough power to sever the other monster's head if it connected.

Fortunately for the Deviljho, it twisted out of the way to get away from its attacker's fire, successfully dodging the tail. Now able to see without getting its eyes boiled, the Deviljho exhaled its dragon breath, which exploded with a burst of sparks on the Hardcore Abiorugu's flank. It stumbled and howled, its mouth already glowing red with heat as it readied another blast of fire. The Deviljho rampaged forward, more than ready to finish its weakened enemy off.

That was when the first Abiorugu, loping into the fray with its head and neck heavily scarred from the previous attack, struck from behind. Its relatively small yet powerful jaws bit down on the larger brute wyvern's neck, prompting a searing roar of agony. The Hardcore Abiorugu let fly with another fire blast, the flames washing over the Deviljho's head and entering its open mouth to scorch its throat.

Its roar petering down to a drawn-out moan, the Deviljho toppled onto its side, driven to exhaustion from pain and exertion. The Hardcore Abiorugu snapped its mouth closed, cutting off the stream of fire, and then almost casually stomped hard on the Deviljho's skull.

There was a sickening crunch.

"BRRAAAAAAYYY!" the two Abiorugus let out their triumphant roars.

On the sidelines, Phisto winced. _I didn't really want to stick around long enough to see that_.

Catry suddenly unfroze. "Come on!" he said in a forceful whisper. "Let's leave before those things decide they want dessert."

Nodding, the Docks boy and his friend dashed off in the direction their fellow researchers had gone, deeper into the Swamp.

-.-.-.-.-.

The researchers got back to Mezeporta that evening. Stars were already breaking out in the darkening sky when the Burukku-drawn cart stopped to let its passengers enter the Guild Hall. Phisto and Catry didn't join the Guild-Master and Council, though – their home was Mezeporta Square, and they had their own duties. It was best to let the Council focus on preparing for the eventual expedition to Sky Corridor, and for them to focus on their own work for the Guild.

When Phisto finally entered his house, the first thing he did was strike a match and light the various lamps that hung from the walls. Grunting with effort, he took off his armor piece by piece and let them rest on a shelf, revealing the ordinary clothes he wore underneath. He let his Carmine Blade rest against the wall, then threw his item pouch across the room to land neatly in the armchair at the back of the room. Athena the Ice Halk was relaxing on her perch near his supply box, and she chirped a greeting before putting her head back under her wing.

"Bath…" Phisto muttered to himself. "Then dinner… then I have to prepare for tomorrow's mission. I'm going to the Desert, so… Cool Drinks and lots of water."

He'd also need the usual monster-repelling items in case he was attacked – Flash Bombs, Dung Bombs, and the like. Lots of terrible monsters inhabited the Desert, which appeared to be barren but was anything but that in reality. And if the Hermitaur outbreak that the Guild-Master had told him about was so bad, then the local wildlife would likely be agitated.

And once that was done… Phisto couldn't help but think ahead. He'd likely have time for several more research missions before it came time for the expedition. But once again, as it had so many times since he heard the news, the question surfaced in his mind – why him? Why was the Guild-Master inviting him along on such a tremendous undertaking? It was just too strange, and for some reason, it made Phisto uneasy.

He put down his things and went to the window, staring up at the open sky. There were no clouds to obstruct the expansive canvas of navy blue, or the glow of the moon as it became more visible with the sun's absence. As he watched, a black shape passed over the great white orb in the sky, probably a flying wyvern heading back to its nest.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this…?" Phisto asked himself, uneasily.

-.-.-.-.-.

 **Obviously, that Deviljho is no Dissidia when it comes to manners. And the HC Abiorugu is awesome – looks like something out of some ancient civilization's mythology.**

 **More of Phisto's perspective in this chapter, and some human-vs-monster action because this IS a Monster Hunter fanfic after all. Next time we see Phisto, he'll be hunting some Hermitaurs and waiting for the call to go investigate the Sky Corridor!**

 **Send reviews, and check out the timeline/dictionary for "Metamorphosis: Seven Sins" if you're confused about anything! If that doesn't clear up your questions, PM me!**


	12. Monstrous Meetings

_**Chapter 12 – Monstrous Meetings**_

-.-.-.-.-.

The sun was setting. Sanguis shielded his eyes and hissed distastefully at the painfully bright orange light that saturated everything aboveground, as he and Sera emerged from the abandoned human smithy and back into the city. Long shadows were cast over the ground, while everything else glowed orange from the light of the sinking orb in the sky.

Sanguis had never seen a sunset before. He always tried to avoid the Bright Circle when it hung in the sky uncovered by clouds, as it hurt his eyes dreadfully and made him feel too warm. Even now, he was extremely reluctant to gaze at it directly, for fear of what it'd do to his eyes if he did. But instead, he focused his sights on the brilliant colors that it stained the rest of the sky – all kinds of bright pinks, oranges, and yellows, gradually fading to dark blue where the Bright Circle's rays weren't able to reach.

"Nice, isn't it?" whispered Sera.

"Sssss…" he replied, his tail rippling uncomfortably. And then, suddenly, he felt a huge yawn pull his mouth open against his will.

"Tired?" Sera asked him.

He nodded, knowing that the gesture equated to an affirmative response to these hybrids. Being able to communicate would go a long way toward his own survival in this unfamiliar, artificial place, but still… the Baruragaru didn't feel comfortable with it, knowing that he was already deviating from the monster he thought he was.

"It'll be dark soon," Sera said, eyes wandering elsewhere as if in disinterest. "You can follow me. As your caretaker, I can lead you to my place. Every hybrid needs a bed to call his or her own, after all… I must warn you, however, the shelter is kind of crowded."

Sanguis just stared at her. Now that it was getting darker, his orange eyes stood out even more than usual.

Without another word, Sera led the way. She walked with the same confidence as before, an attitude that belied her true, more insecure, nature. Although she walked quickly, she would often pause and glance back at Sanguis. Upon seeing him only a few feet behind her, the Unknown-girl would then resume her course.

To himself, Sanguis supposed that, as his 'caretaker', Sera was supposed to make sure he was keeping up and not getting lost. He still didn't know why she cared, especially since she always seemed to be wallowing in her own emotional problems (which _he_ certainly wasn't troubling himself over).

Those few hybrids they passed instinctively got out of Sera's way as if just being near her was unhealthy. These encounters never did anything to faze her, Sanguis noticed. He knew better than to assume that she simply wasn't noticing the glares that the passing hybrids were throwing her way. He knew better than to underestimate the mysterious girl about anything.

However, not all hybrids were content with letting Sera walk wherever she wanted without obstruction.

If Sanguis wasn't so good at seeing in the dark, he would have been hard-pressed to recognize Spark, the hefty and foul-tempered Rajang-man, when he came lumbering up the path from the opposite direction.

"Out of my way, filthy wench!" the huge hybrid roared, and violently shoved Sera aside.

The Unknown-girl landed amongst a pile of crates stacked up against a nearby building. The sound of shattering wood filled the air, tearing Sanguis' attention away from the immediate threat of being treated the same way. But that didn't last long.

"You want some of the same, thing?" Spark rumbled, cracking his knuckles while leering down at the Baruragaru hybrid.

Sanguis stretched out his tongue with a hiss and darted away before his enemy could find a reason to punish him.

With a dismissive grunt, Spark stomped away.

The immediate threat now gone, Sanguis allowed himself to go back to the demolished crates in which Sera was now buried. He stood there for a few seconds, waiting. Then the black-clad hybrid emerged from the pile of splintered wood more or less unharmed.

In fact, the only part of her that was out of the ordinary was her eyes – once again, they were burning blood-red. And this time, the red glow lingered until Sera shut her eyelids. She stood stock-still, with her head bent so that her lengthy bangs fell over her face, and clenched her fists so hard that they turned white and trembled.

She only opened her eyes again when she had stopped trembling. They were as dark and despair-filled as ever when she did.

But Sanguis thought he caught a brief flash of fear in those orbs of hers. Unnerved, he twitched his tail and backed away from her in the same manner as when he had evaded Spark. He wanted her to have plenty of space so that he would be in less danger.

"Sssss…" the Baruragaru hissed to himself, suspicious.

He shouldn't be so wary of this quiet, inoffensive girl. But those eyes held more secrets than he was comfortable with bearing the knowledge of…

"I-I'm alright," Sera whispered. Not to her charge, but to herself. "I'm alright. Spark didn't hurt me. H-He was just… b-being an inconvenience."

When she seemed comfortable again, she turned back to Sanguis. "Let's go. The shelter I share with the others is not far from here."

Sanguis perked up. Shelter? He could certainly use a rest. He hoped it was someplace dark and damp, to help him relax after having his world flipped upside-down more times than he could count today. (He couldn't count at all, actually, but that didn't change the fact that today had been extremely strange.)

But, he had to wonder, who were these 'others' she spoke of?

At last, the two of them reached the entrance of a medium-sized building – one with a fully functional roof – that had a soft glow coming from each of the windows on either side of the door. Sera lightly tapped her fist against the door before slipping inside, making sure to hold it open so that Sanguis felt welcome to follow her.

The transformed Baruragaru was treated to one of the most interesting sights he had ever seen.

It was a dark room, one in which small candles were used for illumination. They only really brought light to the center of the room, though, and not the rest. All of the furniture in the room, apart from those that sat the closest to the central table, was shrouded heavily in shadow. It was that table that sported the most candles. It may not have been damp enough for Sanguis' liking, but he did appreciate the darkness, and even the candles to an extent. A little bit of light was good.

Despite the inside of the shelter being so dark, it was by no means unoccupied. There were several hybrids gathered around the table, some of which Sanguis was shocked to realize that he actually recognized. He noticed Melody and Dissidia, and with a strange jumping sensation in his chest, Keyren as well. The other hybrids – no, he didn't know them at all.

The first one his ever-cautious eyes were drawn to was a rather large male hybrid that was lying sprawled on a couch. His most obvious features were a long pink tail and a belly that protruded well beyond the confines of his shirt. He also had shaggy hair combed into a large spike, and long claws that brought a shiver to Sanguis' spine. He'd have to be wary of natural weapons like those.

The second hybrid was a girl dressed in a heavy coat, which featured thick white fur around the edges of the sleeves and hood. White wings extended from her shoulders, the edges of which were studded with black spikes, and she had a tail whose underside was also covered in spikes. She had a warm smile, which Sanguis failed to notice in favor of the long orange fangs that glinted in the candlelight.

The third was… actually, Sanguis didn't know what to make of him. He sat at the back of the room, shrouded in shadow so that he appeared partially invisible. It was very hard to discern any of his features, but like Sera, he dressed himself in all black. The loose, light clothes he wore covered so much of him that even his nose and mouth weren't visible at all. A pair of pointed ears stuck out from the sides of his head, while a whip-like and very muscular tail waved elegantly from side to side. The hybrid's arms had what looked like silvery blades attached to them – Sanguis remembered the weapon that had cleaved through his leg a short time ago and shuddered.

"Oh hi~!" Melody was the first to talk, in a chirrupy voice that pierced Sanguis' ears. "It's our friend from the Swamp~!"

"How's it going, Swamp Boy?" asked Keyren.

Sanguis felt his heart skip a beat when he heard her speak, and again when she shot him a _very_ lovely smile. Embarrassed by his own reactions, he felt his face warm up, and greeted the attractive female hybrid with a quick, awkward nod.

"He doing good," Dissidia answered Keyren's question, trying to be helpful in her own dumb way.

"Let me introduce you to the ones you don't know," Sera said quietly, grabbing Sanguis' attention as well as everyone else's. "There's Mike, the Congalala hybrid. Second is Yuki, the Barioth-girl, and then Claire, the Lucent Nargacuga-girl."

Oh, so the dark one wasn't male after all. Sanguis felt embarrassed again, a new emotion that made him uncomfortable enough to wish he would _never_ experience it again.

Mike, the fat one that Sanguis had been the first to notice, rolled off of the couch with what looked like a bit of effort and held out his uncomfortably long claws. "Yo, pleasure to meetcha," he greeted in a slow, ponderous voice. "I'm Mike. Don't worry about me getting in your way, I try not to move too much. But anyway, it's good to have another guy to talk to in here. Lemme know if you have any questions about… well, anything about life in Loc Lac."

"Sssss..." Sanguis hissed. His tongue slithered out – and then _immediately_ zipped back inside his mouth after getting a taste of Mike's scent. It was so pungent that he couldn't even attempt to describe it.

He grimaced at the less-than-pleasant experience and backed away, deciding he didn't like Mike. The Congalala-boy was too smelly and too talkative.

Yuki was waving her hand at him from her position at the far end of the table. Now he noticed that the Barioth-girl's fingers were adorned with black claws with hooked tips. He wondered if they were for climbing or just for more efficient killing. He tilted his head at her curiously, which Yuki seemed to take well. She grinned at him, exposing more of her saber-teeth. He didn't know why. Maybe she was thinking that he would taste good. So he made a mental note to avoid her as well.

The only one that didn't move – or indeed, react at all – was the one Sera had referred to as Claire. She regarded Sanguis with unblinking, cat-like eyes, not coldly but not particularly welcoming, either. She leaned a little bit more into the light, allowing Sanguis to see the mask-like cloth she wore over her face and the dark brown hair that spilled over her shoulders. She, too, lifted her hand and made a waving motion, before retreating back into the shadows. It may have just been a trick of the light (or lack of it), but Sanguis could have sworn that Claire completely vanished for a second.

"Sssss…" he hissed suspiciously.

"It's okay," Sera said. "She might be scary… but she's harmless."

The Nargacuga-girl's eyes narrowed at the Unknown-girl.

"Here!" Keyren spoke up. "Swamp Boy, you must be hungry. We've got some leftovers from our meal, if you want 'em."

She held up a small bowl, from which Sanguis detected a tempting taste wafting.

"Better hurry, before Mike eats it," Melody giggled.

"Hey," the Congalala-boy muttered. "Says the girl taking care of a _Deviljho_."

Sera's neutral face never changed as her charge got down on his hands and feet and scuttled awkwardly toward the bowl of food that Keyren held out, tail waving with excitement at the prospect at filling his belly. He hadn't had anything to eat in… days, now that he thought about it.

But when he got close enough to peer at the offered food, he hissed with displeasure and shot Keyren a dark glare. Solid food? What was wrong with her? Didn't she know that liquid food was infinitely better?

"Oh, you don't want it?" the Lagiacrus-girl asked, frowning.

"He's a bloodsucker," Sera told her. "Remember what Duruhos said? Obviously he won't want Kelbi chops… and definitely not Kelbi chops that have been sitting in a puddle at the bottom of that bowl…"

Keyren's demeanor became aggressive in an instant. "Who asked you, creature?"

"Yeah, stay out of this," grunted Mike, sounding half-asleep.

Yuki opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to lose her nerve at the last second. Sanguis noticed this, and looked back at Sera, only to see something that made his spine prickle.

Her fingers were twitching and her eyes were rapidly blinking red. He could practically _taste_ the anger radiating from her, but she never acted. Actually, now that Sanguis thought about it, it looked like she was trying to stop her anger before it started.

That was strange… and what made it scary was that Sera was _losing_.

But then, she stilled, and her eyelids slid closed. When she opened them again, there was no sign of rage.

"Come on, Sanguis," she murmured. "I'll show you where you can sleep. There should be a spot next to mine… I'll be sure to have something good for you to eat in the morning…"

The other hybrids were as silent as the grave as Sera led Sanguis into a part of the room that was particularly thick with shadow and curled up in preparation for sleep. Hesitantly, Sanguis joined her, enjoying the feeling of the cold seeping into his body from the bare floor.

In moments, they were both asleep, leaving the rest of the room's occupants wondering.

"Guess we've got a new companion," remarked Yuki.

"But Sera's as much of a killjoy as ever…" Melody hummed.

Keyren lay down in her seat, wrapping her tail around herself as she prepared to settle down for the night. "Just don't pay any attention to her," she recommended. "Remember, we have combat training tomorrow – I'll just kick her tail if she aggravates me. That goes for all of you too, so watch yourselves."

"Yeah yeah, you're very intimidating," Mike muttered, scratching his large belly and using his tail to dump a bowl of leftovers into his mouth. With his mouth now full of food, he mumbled, "Maybe you should think of something other than being the best at everything…"

Somehow managing to decipher his speech through the chewed-up mush, Yuki nodded in agreement. "You are a bit competitive, Keyren. You should –"

" _What_ was that?" the Lagiacrus-girl asked dangerously, shooting her a glare.

The Barioth-girl squeaked and hid behind her chair.

Satisfied, Keyren lay back down in a relaxed pose, wearing a smug smirk that she turned to Sanguis when she saw him watching from his corner. The Baruragaru felt his face heat up again, and felt the sudden urge to look away. Somewhere deep inside of him, he harbored a dim hope that he could win her over. She was lovely and strong. He shivered – even thinking about it was enough to provoke a fluttering sensation in his chest.

The darkness, and Sera's body heat coming from close by, helped Sanguis sleep soundly that night.

-.-.-.-.-.

On another part of the Great Continent, the midmorning desert heat beat down upon Phisto like nothing else. The sun was so bright that it had no defined shape as it hung there in the cloudless blue sky, covering the sandy dunes with its unrelenting heat. The heat squeezed Phisto as if it were its own physical force trying to crush him under its weight.

Sweating profusely in his Jaggi-skin armor, he stood up and panted for breath. It didn't satisfy him. The open plains of the Desert were so hot that the air was thick and very difficult to breathe. Whoever said that hot air was less dense than cold air clearly didn't know what they were talking about…

With a grunt of effort, Phisto heaved his Carmine Blade off the ground, only to find himself lifting up the Hermitaur carcass that the weapon was apparently stuck in. He shook the Great Sword slightly, and the dead carapaceon fell off and hit the ground with a soft *crunch*. Already, he was sick and tired of this dirty work, and he had only been in the Desert for a few hours at most.

The Guild-Master hadn't been lying, though, when he had said that the Hermitaurs were absolutely everywhere. It had taken Phisto this long to clear out only one area of them – this long to slay what must have been at least two hundred. Luckily for him, not many of the little crustaceans had found proper shells yet, making the task of killing them a cinch. Even better, they were nearsighted and lacked the sensitive antennae of the fully mature Daimyo Hermitaurs that could sometimes be seen roaming the Desert. By now, Phisto's sword was stained heavily with the coppery blue blood of the human-sized carapaceons.

And he was far from done. If he wanted to make a dent in the Hermitaur population, which had recently exploded to a level that was certainly not safe for the Desert's ecosystem, then he would have to work for almost the rest of the day. It wasn't something that he looked forward to. But on the bright side, at least he was _finally_ done with this particular area.

"I'll move on to a… less open area," Phisto decided, almost desperately chugging down a Cool Drink to give himself some relief against the disgusting heat. "I can't stay out in the open for even a minute longer."

After consulting his map, Phisto found what looked like the entrance to a large oasis. It was relatively close by, on the other side of the canyon that was already visible on the horizon. He tucked his Great Sword back into the sheath on his back and began the long journey back the way he had come, across the desert sands in hopes of reaching the relieving shade on the other side before long.

Fortunately, he did. The coolness of the shade washed over him as soon as he reached the towering canyon, prompting a sigh of great relief from the young hunter-turned-researcher. There were some more Hermitaurs scuttling around, and with his mouth set in a grim line, Phisto made quick work of them.

"Too bad they have to go to waste," he said to himself, regretfully. "I could have asked the Guild-Master for help, and an airship to haul it all back to Mezeporta. I'm sure a lot of people like seafood."

He was about to continue his murmured complaints when he heard a sound from up ahead, deeper in the canyon. It was unmistakably the roar of a monster, so with only the slightest hesitation, the Docks boy ran in the direction from whence the sound had come.

Diving behind a rock for cover, Phisto peeked over the top and gasped quietly. He was witnessing a group of no less than a dozen Hermitaurs advancing on a smallish Rathian. The female wyvern's scales weren't quite as green as fully-grown one, indicating that this one was perhaps a fledgling that had recently left the nest. Under her claws, she clutched the body of an Apceros while she snarled at the advancing carapaceons. But it was clear that the Hermitaurs had the strength of numbers, and they instinctively marched forward toward the smell of freshly-killed meat.

Fire shot from the Rathian's mouth, burning three of the nearest Hermitaurs to a crisp. But those that remained backed the flying wyvern against the wall of the canyon, snapping their claws.

Even Phisto knew that the Rathian, probably possessing very little experience, could very easily fall if she did not submit to the Hermitaurs and fly away. Where could she go, though, in a desert overwhelmed by the Hermitaur population boom?

Gripping the handle of his Carmine Blade tightly, Phisto jumped out from behind the rock and began what could best be described as a massacre.

By the time he was finished, the Hermitaurs lay in pieces around him, and he panted for breath as he had quickly exerted himself to the point of exhaustion.

Phisto put away his Great Sword and noticed that the Rathian was staring inquisitively at him. He backed off, making sure to keep a close eye on the flying wyvern in case she suddenly decided he was a threat that needed to be removed. But she did no such thing, just stood there with her head tilted to the side.

"There, you're safe now," Phisto managed to say. "You should eat while you still can."

The Rathian seemed to grow more alert at the sound of his words. He had no idea if she could understand – what was he thinking, _of course_ she could understand him. The Rath species was one of the smartest breeds of wyvern in the entire known world, and there were records dating back to before the Human-Monster War that mentioned Raths being taught how to speak. Hopefully, though, this one would take Phisto's words to heart and leave him be.

Strangely, the Rathian didn't make a move. Her eyes bored into Phisto's with their oddly intense stare, almost like she was trying to tell him something significant.

Then, in the language of monsters that no human could understand, the Rathian let out a single sound. " _…Docks._ "

Phisto blinked, wondering what the Rathian had just said to him. The quiet grunt that she had emitted seemed important.

" _Docks,_ " the wyvern said again, and spread her wings. " _Docks, Docks…_ " she continued to repeat as she lifted into the sky, abandoning her Apceros corpse, and soared into the yonder through the canyon's gap.

Rendered speechless by the peculiarity of the brief encounter, Phisto watched the Rathian make an expert banking turn and vanish over the lip of the gorge. Obviously, she had been speaking to him – even the language barrier couldn't hide that. What possibly could have been so important that she had to talk to him about? Didn't she know that humans and monsters couldn't communicate?

Well… that wasn't entirely true. The Hero was rumored to be able to speak to monsters. Other than that, though…

Shaking his head, Phisto put his current thoughts away at the back of his mind. He had a mission. A mission that he doubted he could ever fully accomplish, admittedly, but it was a job all the same. The Guild-Master was counting on him to prevent a calamity from befalling the local monsters of the Desert.

And, little did he know, a lot more than that as well…

-.-.-.-.-.

"What?!" Caela gasped.

The Wyverian woman was back at the Hunter's Guild with her grandfather, preparing for their next big undertaking. No, it wasn't the long-awaited expedition to the Sky Corridor – it would take a very long time before they managed to build a new Large Exploration Ship and rally the necessary supplies to make the journey across the great ocean. Actually, the trip to the Sky Corridor was the last thing on their minds right now.

Shortly after they had arrived back at the Guild, the Guild-Master's Halk had arrived with a letter from Port Tanzia. It was from the local Guild-Master, telling about some urgent matter that required the Mezeporta Guild-Master's presence immediately. (Or at least as soon as he could arrive – the Guild-Master of Tanzia wasn't nearly rude enough to disregard the fact that their home regions were an entire continent apart.)

Anyway, it was to the bustling coastal city that the old Wyverian and his granddaughter were preparing to travel. And the former had just said something that the latter simply couldn't comprehend the reasoning behind.

"First the Sky Corridor, now this?" Caela was protesting. "I know you think he's special, but that doesn't mean he should come along on _all_ of our travels! He's only an ordinary researcher, not… well, one of us."

"But…" the Guild-Master wrinkled his brow. "The vision I had… I wouldn't have seen Phisto if he wasn't important in some way…"

"You saw him in the same vision you saw Gogmazios and the Seven!" she shot back, raising her voice uncharacteristically high. "For all we know he could be connected to them – even _working for_ them!"

The instant the words were out of her mouth, Caela regretted them. She sighed and went on in a much softer tone, "I apologize. I do not truly think that Phisto would be anything like that, but… my argument still stands. He's a perfectly normal boy, not even out of his teenage years. You can't give him such special treatment merely because your vision showed you his arrival in Mezeporta."

The Guild-Master shook his head. "I understand what you're saying," he told her, "but I cannot shake the feeling that there's more to that boy than meets the eye. I don't even think _he_ suspects it. He must be placed under our protection, or else…"

He broke into a coughing fit.

"Please, calm yourself," Caela said, bending down to place a hand on his shoulder. "I trust your judgement. I did not mean to make you feel as though you had to defend yourself. I was just… shocked."

She stood up and looked at him with exasperation. "But I swear, if Phisto gets a heart attack when I tell him of your latest decision, I'm blaming you."

Her severe tone didn't fool the Guild-Master, who chuckled heartily at what he recognized as a joke.

-.-.-.-.-.

 **More characters introduced! All of which are, admittedly, quite minor characters. But Mike, Yuki, and Claire definitely add to this story's variety, you can't deny that.**

 **That encounter with the Rathian definitely has Phisto puzzled, though. Was it a coincidence that she knew his surname, or is there something else going on?**

 **And, for a final question, what is going to go down at Port Tanzia? Stay tuned and make sure to review so you can find out!**


	13. Tanzia Travels

_**Chapter 13 – Tanzia Travels**_

 **Reply to "Guytobe"** **: Sanguis is still a monster at heart, meaning that he's attracted to strength, independence, and other such factors that mean the difference between life and death in the wild. Keyren is strong and able to take care of herself, which tells Sanguis that she's worth his attention. The fact that he's also smitten with Keyren's physical appearance makes perfect sense – an attractive female is one who's sought after by other males, and thus is probably worth the effort.**

 **(In humans, for example, men find wide hips attractive in women because it has something to do with how well they can deliver a baby. Of course, we don't consciously think of this, but it nevertheless shows that we find certain traits attractive** _ **because**_ **they have that practical evolutionary purpose.)**

-.-.-.-.-.

The airship moved slowly across the sky, so high above the landscape that the various features of the Great Continent looked small and insignificant. The wind blew unobstructed way up here, something that Duruhos loved. For a moment, he almost wished he had been born a flying wyvern. Being able to experience this… this incredible feeling every day of his life would have been a magnificent gift.

But no, he would not regret something he had no control over. Life as a Rust Duramboros had not been bad, not one bit. In fact, Duruhos was the first to admit that all his years of living had been well worth it. He was old now, no doubt about that. But he was still as strong as he had always been, and he had his Elites with him. Even if he were to suddenly drop dead of old age right now, the Elites were more than able to take his place as leader of the hybrids.

He chuckled to himself. _Thinking about such trivial things at a time like this,_ he thought. _Goodness, I certainly am getting old if my mind is wandering so._

"When shall we arrive at Port Tanzia?" he asked, turning toward his comrades.

"Shouldn't be long now," Ray rumbled.

"And what of our guests?" Duruhos continued.

Cindy idly leaned against the airship's railing, running a whetstone over her tailblade. She didn't say anything, just raised her free hand and pointed a claw across the airship. Duruhos squinted to better see what she was indicating.

On the other side of the vessel were two hybrids, the 'guests' that Duruhos had invited along on their mission to Port Tanzia. The first was Kumono, the calm and collected Nerscylla-boy. If it wasn't for the pair of long, spidery legs coming out of his back, he would look almost completely human. He wore a dark, heavy cloak made from Gypceros skin, whose hood partially obscured his face. He also had hook-shaped claws on his index fingers – and combined with the ability to stick to any surface, they made Kumono an excellent climber.

Beside Kumono was Atticus, a much younger Seltas-boy. The neopteron-turned-human was currently grabbing Kumono's leg and shivering with terror, thanks to the height at which they flew. Atticus was covered in exoskeleton-like armor that featured bright orange gauntlets and an aerodynamic canopy that rose above his head from his neck armor. A couple of transparent wings twitched occasionally from their position against his back, and his glistening almond-shaped eyes swam with a fear of heights.

"They'll live," Cindy growled without even glancing up from her work.

Duruhos frowned at the irritable Glavenus-woman. She noticed and met his gaze with a scalding one, which lost none of its intensity despite coming from behind a mask.

"You're not happy about leaving Odon and Sue behind to watch over Loc Lac," observed Ray.

"Of course I'm not!" the former brute wyvern snapped. "In fact, Sue's the only reason I didn't outright refuse to accompany you in the first place! That monstrous Vespoid is far too unstable to be left alone for even a minute, and you know it. And what about that Spark bas–"

She felt a hand clasp her shoulder, stopping her from saying whatever it was she had been about to say before she regretted it. It belonged to Ray, who disapprovingly shook his head at her. Snarling, Cindy shrugged away his hand and shoved her whetstone into his beard. The sound of her footsteps faded as she stomped below deck.

"Oh, Cindy," sighed Duruhos. "One of these days, that temper will get you into trouble…"

"I would not worry," said the Gammoth-man. "She is fully able of taking care of herself. And she is civil without Odon around to irritate her."

Allowing a smile to crease his slightly wrinkled face, Duruhos nodded. "Indeed. That is why she will be such a big help when we meet with the humans of Port Tanzia at last."

"And you are quite relaxed without Spark around to provoke you," the giant observed further, fixing his leader in a beady-eyed stare.

The smile faded.

Breathing a long sigh, the elderly hybrid murmured to himself, "That is why I hope we finish our mission and get back home soon."

Ray frowned, an action visible even behind his huge beard. He knew as well as any of the Elites that the only thing Duruhos _really_ worried about was his Rajang rival. If Spark did anything reckless while their leader was away, as he was now… Ray decided not to think of that.

"What is the plan for when we meet with the humans of Port Tanzia?" the massive hybrid asked instead, forcing such thoughts from his mind.

Now the smile was making its way back onto Duruhos' face, which Ray was secretly glad to see. Said Duruhos, "I have asked the Guild-Master of Tanzia to meet with us in private. It is better for us to do so, so as not to alarm the general public. Right now, only the Guild-Master and his aides should know of our existence."

"Smart," agreed Ray. "That is why you asked for two of _your_ aides – Cindy and I – as well as the Nerscylla-and-Seltas-boys."

"I wish for the humans to see us as thoughtful, cultured creatures rather than abominations," Duruhos smiled. "You and Cindy are reasonable and polite, and Kumono and Atticus are not only loveable, but perfect examples of what hybrids can turn out to be. I mean, have you ever met a Nerscylla you wanted to love?"

The giant shook his head, causing his beard to rustle against his fur coat, even though he knew his superior's question was rhetorical. He decided to leave his leader, stomping down below deck to check on Cindy. Things tended to break when she was alone and in a bad mood.

Duruhos was alone for about a minute, and then no longer. Without warning, Atticus zipped over to his side and tried to hide behind him, but tripped over the Rust Duramboros-man's massive tail. Embarrassed and frightened, Atticus tried to duck so that his head was hidden underneath his canopy, blushing cheeks blocked from view.

"It's alright, little one," Duruhos said soothingly. He reached down and tugged Atticus back onto his feet, careful not to cut himself on the orange gauntlets that everyone called 'mantis claws' for obvious reasons.

Atticus was unable to speak just yet – he was proving to be one of the more stubborn, slow-learning hybrids – so he shivered his wings with a short buzzing sound and looked up at the elderly hybrid with huge almond-shaped eyes.

"Sorry, Duruhos sir," apologized Kumono. As soon as his caretaker walked up, Atticus dove behind him and didn't come out. "He's restless and frightened. This whole trip is too much of an adventure for him."

Nodding, Duruhos replied, "I am sorry for dragging you two along."

"Anything to help," Kumono assured him, smiling.

His eyebrows glittered, an unusual trait that usually made Duruhos look twice at him. As it was, they weren't eyebrows, but rows of simple blue eyes that served no purpose other than to detect changes in light. That was why Kumono always had his hood up, so as not to overwhelm himself in the sun-exposed city of Loc Lac.

The Nerscylla-boy had been chosen because he was polite and the most human-looking of the hybrids at a glance. But the closer you looked at him, the less human he seemed. Duruhos wanted Kumono's help to make a good first impression, and he was certainly the best monster-turned-human for the job.

"Are we almost there?" he asked, as much for Atticus' benefit as his own.

"We haven't yet made it over the Great Desert yet," Duruhos told him, "but Port Tanzia is on the nearest coast. The quickest route will take us past the Volcano and over the Tainted Sea, which the city is built on a peninsula nearby."

Kumono absorbed the information and nodded. He turned around to look at Atticus, who stared back at him unblinkingly. "Just hang in there a little longer, okay Attie?" he asked softly, referring to his charge by the pet name he used sometimes. "It'll be over soon."

The only noise that came from the little Seltas-boy was an agitated buzz, accompanied by a nervous twitch of his mantis claws. When Kumono strode away to peer over the railing of the airship, he actually let out a squeak from his mouth and fluttered over to his 'big brother'.

"See that, Attie?" said Kumono, pointing with the hooked claw on his index finger.

Reluctantly, Atticus peeked out from behind the former temnoceran's Gypceros-skin cloak and looked out over the landscape – at this altitude, it was spread out like a giant multicolored blanket big enough to cover the entire world. Below them and in front of them was the sandy brown of the Great Desert, while further out, light green grassy plains and dark green forests could be seen. A dark spike – the Volcano – could also be seen, jutting out from a small region of barren black and grey. And furthest away from it all, the thinnest of all sparkly blue lines, was their first glimmering sight of the ocean.

"You've never seen the sea before, have you?" Kumono asked him.

Atticus made a soft hissing sound and shook his head. He had been found in a part of the mountains of the Nameless region called the Sunken Hollow, far from any major water source.

"Good thing you're coming on this trip then," the Nerscylla-boy continued, giving his charge an encouraging smile. "You're going to be seeing a lot of new things."

There was the sound of loud stomping coming up from below deck. Cindy's scowling face suddenly appeared above deck, followed by her arms and torso. She was carrying a casket full of darkly-colored bottles that rattled loudly when she put them down.

"I thought I smelled something bad," she snapped. "Duruhos, did you forget to clean out the airship before we used it? I found these human drinks below deck. They must have been in the storage room since Loc Lac was abandoned. The whole place smells like" – she took a whiff of the casket and grimaced – "like _old fruit_."

Ray also poked his head out from the trapdoor, and could only barely squeeze past Cindy and through the relatively small opening to get his massive bulk back on deck. "We must have forgotten to put that with the other drinks we found when we first came to Loc Lac," he noted. His trunk moved slightly so that he could give the bottles a quick sniff. "It's surprising how many wine cellars full of their drinks the humans left behind when the city was abandoned."

"It's puzzling how we managed to miss it," Duruhos agreed in a musing tone, "especially since our scouts have used this airship multiple times."

Kumono spoke up just then. "Maybe we could use it as a gift, now that we've found it? We're not going to do anything with it otherwise."

The Elites considered that.

"Quite the opportunist," admitted Ray.

"A capital idea," Duruhos nodded. "From what I know of humans, they are fond of alcoholic beverages."

"I can't imagine what idiot would want to drink this toxic waste," snarled Cindy, shoving the casket of drinks into Duruhos' arms. "This is literally the most disgusting thing I've ever smelled in my life. Even the aroma of Delex that's been sitting in the sun too long is pleasant compared to this. It's so bad that –"

A gust of snowflakes to the back of her head was enough to make her stop.

"You've already made your distaste quite clear," Ray said. "Herbivores like myself – and some omnivores like humankind – in fact find the smell not too bad."

While he wasn't much fonder of the sharp, fruity smell than Cindy was, Kumono felt pleased with himself. He was glad to have given the idea of handing this off to the humans as a token of hospitality. Seemingly sensing his caretaker's elation, Atticus buzzed and came out from behind him.

"Now, we must prepare to meet with the human leader of Port Tanzia," Duruhos began, starting to pace back and forth across the deck. "Kumono, you must keep an eye on Atticus so that nothing startles him into… panicking, to put it nicely."

His reply was a solemn nod. When a hybrid that hadn't yet grown out of his or her monster mentality was frightened, they tended to 'defend themselves'.

"Cindy and Ray," the old man continued, "you will be negotiating with me."

It was the Glavenus-woman who replied. "Whatever you say."

Opening his mouth to say something else, Duruhos suddenly closed it again and frowned, turning his head left and right as he scanned the airship and found no-one else aside from the five of them.

"Where might Gulo be?" he asked, almost to himself.

"Below deck," Cindy drawled with heavy sarcasm. "Plotting for the death of us all."

Ray turned to Duruhos and answered, "Below deck, eating something. You know how he gets."

"Indeed," chuckled the Rust Duramboros-man, thumping his tail with amusement. "He will be a big help when we reach Tanzia. An elder dragon such as himself commands respect."

"Even if his gluttonous demeanor doesn't," Ray commented, dryly. "It's hard to appear threatening when you're stuffing yourself."

The group shared a good laugh at that. Even Atticus made a small sound that could pass for laughter.

"Might you find Gulo and tell him to come up here?" Duruhos asked of Ray. "I would like to speak with him about what awaits us in the human city."

With a slight nod, the Gammoth-man descended through the trapdoor.

-.-.-.-.-.

The sound of Ray's heavy footfalls could be heard even from where Gulo currently was. When he started feeling the vibrations traveling through the wood and making his bare feet tingle, his eyes widened.

"Someone's coming," he warned the other being currently in the room with him. "Remember, pass this on to one of the others."

"They'll already be at Loc Lac, covering for your absence," confirmed Avari, stretching out his wings. "But I'm still worn out from flying here from the Old Swamp. Gogmazios is finally awake."

"Oh, good," Gulo said distractedly. He pressed, "So… you'll pass it on?"

The Sin of Greed sighed. "It'll be half a day's flight if I conserve my energy. Which I have to do. But yes, I'll tell the others about what you're up to. Don't expect me to come back and check on you very soon."

Turning toward the gaping hole in the side of the airship, Avari jumped, spreading his wings as he did so. His form blurred for a second, and was replaced with a powerful Alatreon. The black elder dragon disappeared through the clouds.

"Whew," Gulo breathed. Then he examined the hole. "I'd better come up with something to tell Duruhos about this…"

-.-.-.-.-.

Fortunately, the trip back home didn't take Phisto long this time. Before, he needed to trek through the entirety of the Swamp, and then some, in order to get back to Mezeporta that lay an entire day's worth of walking away. This time, coming back from the Desert, he had an airship to pick him up and save him at least a _week_ of traveling.

That said, he was still exhausted after his day in the arid subregion. He really wasn't a pretty sight – inside his armor, he was sweating, and outside, he was covered in a grotesque mixture of sand and purple Hermitaur blood. What little of his blond hair peeked out from under his helmet was stuck to his forehead and neck with sweat. He staggered as he slowly walked on the paved road, feeling like the weight of his Great Sword was something he couldn't stand any longer.

"Hey!" Catry greeted as he neared the Guild Hall. The Bones boy ran up to the other teenager and patted him on the shoulder. "Wasn't expecting to see you so soon. Did your 'special mission' go well?"

"Depends on who you ask," grumbled Phisto. "I feel like Hell just swallowed me up and spat me out, but I managed to get rid of a good number of Hermitaurs. They weren't hard to slay, and didn't put up much of a fight."

He chose not to mention his odd encounter with the Rathian. He could always tell his lifelong friend about that later. Right now, he just _really, really_ wanted a nap.

"Ah, Phisto!" a voice called out from in the direction of the Guild Hall. The two boys turned around and saw Caela striding toward them, waving to get their attention.

Phisto felt his heart jump into his throat, and he swallowed reflexively.

"Good work in the Desert," the Wyverian woman complimented the Docks boy. "We got a report from the Dragonwatch that certain areas seemed to have calmed down. How many Hermitaurs did you slay?"

"Don't know," Phisto replied, not looking at his crush directly. "I lost count at about two hundred."

"Well," Caela said, a hint of amusement in her voice, "you'd better get cleaned and rested up. The Guild-Master wants you to accompany us to Port Tanzia tomorrow."

Unprepared for the special-treatment bomb, Phisto was struck dumb with his mouth hanging open in shock.

"Real smooth, man," snickered Catry, nudging him.

Phisto managed to get his mouth unstuck. "What the _fu_ –"

A wave of the hand was all Caela had to do in order to stop him from saying something he'd likely regret. He clamped his mouth shut and bowed his head a little as an apology from the mild overreaction.

"The Guild-Master has taken an unusual interest in you, Phisto," Caela told him. "I, too, if I am honest. I do not know what my grandfather sees in you, which fascinates me. The both of us will be keeping an eye out for you."

Face turning bright red, Phisto managed to stammer out a thank-you. He assured her that he'd be arriving at the Guild Hall bright and early tomorrow so that he wasn't holding anyone back, and rushed off without another word, still maintaining his blush.

Caela frowned at his departure.

"I'm sure he's just tired," Catry told her offhandedly. "And he's never been the most social person. He's fine."

She nodded, then headed back to the Guild Hall, where she undoubtedly had more work to do. Catry followed his friend in the direction of Mezeporta Square, just as eager to relax as Phisto was.

A memory from the other day crossed his mind all of a sudden. It was of that Guild official that the Guild-Master had mentioned, the one who hadn't come back from his last mission in the Moga region. Maybe that was what the departure to Port Tanzia was all about. It seemed likely.

Still… Catry barely stopped a chill from running down his spine. He couldn't help but wonder if everything would be alright. Because for some reason, he was convinced that it wouldn't.

-.-.-.-.-.

 **So yeah, now that the English names for the Elite Four have been revealed – a while ago – I shall hereby refer to them by said names.**

 **Also, a Seltas hybrid named Atticus – a little call-back to the original "Metamorphosis" story that I have since deleted. Don't worry, he isn't going to be murdering anyone in cold blood in this fanfic.**

 **(I'm still a bit guilty I deleted that story. It was such a cool idea, but I just couldn't live up to my own expectations.)**

 **Review, please!**


	14. Terrible Training

_**Chapter 14 – Terrible Training**_

-.-.-.-.-.

Sanguis awoke slowly, feeling refreshed after having gotten a good night's rest. The small dwelling he shared with the other hybrids wasn't made of itchy wood and wasn't flying high above the ground, which contributed greatly to his current state of comfort.

As he became aware, he began to hear things coming from elsewhere in the room. There was a low crackling, underneath which a faint sizzling could be heard, and then low voices. So the others were already awake, it seemed.

He opened his orange eyes blearily, blinking away his drowsiness, and immediately saw Sera sitting down on the floor next to him.

"Good morning, Sanguis," she whispered. Her hand reached out to make contact with the top of his head.

The Baruragaru-boy felt a flash of indignation, and his fins pricked alertly just before he raised his head to snap at Sera's fingers. She drew her hand away from his teeth, which were as sharp and black as before his transformation.

"Sorry," she mumbled an apology, clutching her wrist insecurely.

He let out a huff. Just because she was his 'caretaker' didn't give her the right to touch him.

Stretching out his tail and arms, he climbed into a kneeling position and instinctively released his long tongue from his mouth, drinking in the scents that saturated the small room. He almost cringed when he detected that inevitable undercurrent of Mike's aroma, but he didn't – not when there was something far more compelling to focus on.

Sanguis slid his eyes over to where the mouth-watering scent was coming from. He didn't have to look very far. In front of Sera was part of a dead monster. The tail, if Sanguis had to guess from the shape of the fin, which looked like a much bigger version of the fish he had seen while traveling across the Big Water. It was so fresh that it was still oozing blood.

 _Blood!_ Sanguis thought, suddenly realizing that he was absolutely famished.

"Oh yes…" Sera spoke up. She tentatively reached forward and pushed the bloody tail further towards her charge. "I went out to see what our hunters had brought back from yesterday. It was mostly Delex… so I brought a couple back and saved you one of the tails."

Sanguis didn't hesitate. He plunged his tongue into the juicy sand-colored tail and drained it of everything there was to be drained. When he was done several seconds later, he could have sworn that he had never felt to satisfied. He sat back on his rear end and ran the tip of his tongue over his bloodstained lips. There was a strange yet delicious tingle on either side of his neck as his storage sacs filled up a little with whatever his stomach couldn't fit.

If Sera noticed the scar-like markings on his neck split apart to reveal a bloody red membrane, she didn't comment on it. Instead, she gave him the faintest of smiles, one that even his observant eyes were hard-pressed to detect. Sanguis tilted his head at her.

"I'm glad that you liked it," she said. "You must have been hungry."

She had no idea. Sanguis was in such a good mood after filling his belly that he even felt inclined to thank her in some way – something that he had _never_ felt like doing in his _entire life_ , because there was no-one to thank but yourself when you caught a good breakfast. So he had no idea how he would even go about doing performing an action that would even come close to being interpreted as a thank-you. And of course, physical contact was out of the question.

"Sssss…" he just hissed at her, bobbing his head in what he hoped was a submissive way.

Now it was her turn to tilt her head, appearing confused by the odd gesture. Then she looked down and murmured, "Well… I'm happy to provide for you. I'll get you something else for lunch in a few hours… if you want…"

Sanguis' fins pricked up as if they were ears. This wasn't a one-time thing? As long as he stuck with Sera, he'd be fed? That was a revelation that made him feel… warm inside. Some kind of inner elation that bloomed in his chest.

Was that what happiness felt like? It felt strange and alien… but not all that bad, admittedly, if Sanguis could look past the overlying feeling of discomfort that came with the unfamiliarity of it all…

And hey, the more food he got, the less tempted he'd be to kill one of the others. Not that he really cared about them, but doing something like that wouldn't be healthy for him.

With his meal over and done with, Sanguis turned his head toward the soft sound of crackling. His eyes widened – fire!

A small fire was burning inside a nest-like structure on the central table. The bowl took up the entirety of the table itself, and the other hybrids were crowded around it. Each of them had bits of meat on sticks and were roasting them over the fire. On the floor were ten-foot-long fishy creatures with crocodile snouts, dead of course, lying on blood-soaked, spongy rugs.

Sanguis had seen fire before, and only knew that it destroyed things and spread out of control whenever it could. But what he saw before him was… fascinating. The hybrids had contained this fire and were using it to burn their meals before they ate.

"Oh, Swamp Boy's up!" Melody chirruped excitedly. She gulped down her mouthful in one go and, with a twinkling grin, tossed a hunk of burnt meat into the air.

The former leviathan snatched it with his tongue before it could hit the ground, before he even knew what he was doing. Solid food? Well, why not? And even though the morsel was charred and bloodless, it had an unexpected, enhanced flavor.

"Good, huh?" asked the girl with the fangs – Yuki, or so Sanguis recalled. She had her fur-lined hood down, revealing long and pure white hair. "I still prefer my meals cold, but cooked meat is okay, isn't it?"

Sanguis hesitantly nodded. Well… she wasn't wholly wrong…

"Come on guys, hurry up!" came the snappish voice of Keyren, who stood up all at once and strode toward the door. "There's combat training today! I wanna get over to that arena and start kicking your tails!"

The lovely Lagiacrus-girl walked without any regard for anyone else, so Sanguis, crouched near the ground as he was, had to scramble out of the way before she stepped on his tail. Keyren suddenly paused and looked down in surprise, as if she had not been expecting to see him there.

"Oh hey, Swamp Boy," she greeted, more calmly. She extended her hand and held it in front of him, allowing him to use his tongue to examine it. "Sleep well? I hope you're coming with us to the arena. Then you can see how awesome I am."

His tongue slid back into his mouth, and he made a gurgling sound in his throat that sounded halfway between a purr and a croak.

"You happy to see me?" Keyren asked, amused. "Sure, after spending the night curled up next to _her_ , you probably would be."

There was dead silence from Sera's corner of the room.

"Sssss…" was all Sanguis said.

Standing back up to her full height, and giving Sanguis a good view of her bare middle as she did so, Keyren continued on her way toward the exit. "Well," she loudly spoke up, "I'm going to be the first one to combat training this morning! Later!"

Sanguis found himself entranced by the way her hips moved on her way out the door.

"Come on, Sanguis," Sera's voice prompted him to break out of his reverie and stare at her. The Unknown-girl was standing up, her deadly tail swishing behind her. "We're going as well. You should at least have a look at what our arena is all about. And later… some combat training would be good for you, too."

A grunt came from where Dissidia was stuffing Delex chunks by the paw-ful into her mouth. She waited until her mouth was empty again before remarking, "Dissidia not know what that means."

"Ooh, then we should go too!" exclaimed Melody, grinning so hard that her cheeks were flushed pink. "It'll be so much fun~!"

"And leave me and Claire to pick up the leftovers?" Yuki protested. She gestured to the dead Delex sitting on the absorbent rugs, which were made from Ludroth skin.

The Lucent Nargacuga-girl said nothing, simply reached over to start gathering the leftovers.

-.-.-.-.-.

Way back in the day, Loc Lac City's biggest attraction was its arena. Monsters that weren't killed by hunters would be captured and sent here for gladiators to spar against. The battles often went either way, but no matter who came out on top, there was always much bloodshed and entertainment for the crowds. Loc Lac City had the biggest and most well-maintained arena on the entire Great Continent, apart from that of Dundorma City.

Of course, that was then. Nowadays, it didn't see much action, apart from the locals using it as a practice site to hone their fighting skills. Duruhos had had the idea, thinking that friendly sparring would be a good way to help them master their new bodies. And naturally, for self-defense, in case they ever needed it.

The arena itself was fairly simple in terms of design. Circular, with a sandy pit that served as the fighting area, surrounded by a canyon made up of rock ledges that provided numerous places to sit down and watch the action going on below. This early in the morning, the arena was heavily shadowed, creating a definite contrast between light and dark. Several hybrids were there already, waiting for their turn to go down and spar against each other. Sue and Odon, the only two Elite remaining in Loc Lac now that Duruhos was gone, were standing atop the highest ledge and gazing down at those who were currently fighting, making sure that neither of them were permanently injured.

A scream of pain echoed through the arena as the Hypnocatrice-woman received an orb of electricity in the gut at twenty miles an hour, courtesy of her slightly younger sparring partner. Keyren casually brushed her sparking nails against her collarbone and smirked.

"Not bad," the former bird wyvern commented, brushing dust off her skirt, which was made of enormous orange feathers that grew from her waist. More feathers extended from the back of her head and fanned out in an instinctive threat display.

"Better take notes," she taunted Keyren. "Because Blossom's class is now in session."

"And something tells me you're about to get schooled!" the Lagiacrus-girl laughed confidently, baring her claws.

Flaring her wings so quickly that dust went flying off the ground with an audible *whoosh*, Blossom sprang into the air, abnormally high by human standards, and came down on Keyren with her foot extended in front of her.

Keyren brought her hands together, blocking Blossom's gravity-aided kick and grabbing her knee-high boot with a grip of iron. The spines on her back suddenly flashed, and a pulse of electricity ran up her arms and into the Hypnocatrice-woman's foot. Cringing, Blossom tore her foot away and lashed out with the other foot, batting Keyren across the face and flooring her.

She spat out a pointy tooth and smirked. "Okay, that was pretty awesome."

Springing to her feet, Keyren threw a punch, which Blossom ducked under and then immediately headbutted her in the gut. Keyren went flying backwards, but curled up her body and used the momentum to roll back into a standing position. Blossom was already almost on top of her when she had fully recovered, the talons on her hands bared. The two females grappled for a few seconds, before Keyren sent another wave of electricity down her arms to repel Blossom and then turned around to swat her in the face with her tail.

"That's enough!" cried Sue from the upper parts of the arena.

Blossom, who was actually starting to look furious, calmed herself down and adjusted her pose to a more relaxed one, her feathers twitching slightly. Smirking, Keyren did the same, confidently folding her arms across her chest.

"Are you serious?!" Odon complained, tapping his foot on the concrete so quickly it looked like his leg was having a seizure. "It was just getting good!"

Sue gave him a very condescending stare. "It is our job to supervise and ensure these fights do not end with life-threatening injuries, not simply to watch for our own personal entertainment."

It was at this moment when Sanguis and Sera arrived through the arena's main entrance. By now used to the eye-searing rays of the Bright Circle, Sanguis blinked in awe at the sheer enormity of the structure he now stood in. He couldn't help but wonder how long it would have taken a few of those scrawny Two-Legs to build something like this, and how many would have dropped dead of exhaustion before it was finished.

"Come on…" he heard Sera's prompt, and followed her up a nearby set of steps that led away from the sand pit and toward the rock ledges that surrounded it.

There was someone already near the spot that Sera had in mind. In the shadows crouched Gekula, the Khezu-boy, staying out of the light of the desert sun as if he feared it would roast him alive. Fortunately for him, the long shadows produced by the sun's early light made it easy for him.

"Ah… Sera," he hissed, showing his crooked teeth. "Come with the bloodsucker, I see."

She completely ignored him, although a shiver passed through her body and made it tense up instinctively. Once again, Sanguis smelled barely-repressed anger. He crouched low to the ground, close to the wall that formed the ledge above, so that he would be more hidden in the shadows and less visible to potential dangers.

This amount of caution was unusual for the Baruragaru. In his old home, he had been the top predator – but now, he was in a world where his surroundings were dominated by individuals of similar size and strength. For the umpteenth time, he observed with great apprehension that this was a world that was alien to him, one where he was no longer the mightiest.

He was so focused on his mysterious and unnerving caretaker that Sanguis was caught totally off guard when a pair of talons slammed down on the rock above him. He leapt back with his tongue flashing from his mouth, jabbing at the armored legs that towered above him to no avail.

"Oh man, that was too good!" Odon cackled, having swooped down from his high vantage point on the other side of the arena. "Aggressive type, aren't you? Well, why don't you show us how feisty you can get?"

Laughing maniacally, the Astalos-man leapt off the ledge and kicked Sanguis into the sandy pit below, using his wings to keep himself aloft all the while. Hissing and spitting madly, Sanguis tumbled in the dry earth and rolled onto all fours, whipping his tail and tongue in a fit of anger. When Odon soared over him to make it back to his initial perch, Sanguis acted as he did with all flying prey – throwing his tongue out like a rope to yank him down to the ground.

Odon instantly exploded into motion, using both his feet and his wing claws to propel him out of harm's way before quickly going back into an upright gait. Sanguis didn't bother, galloping after him like a misshapen ape and howling at the top of his lungs. But he didn't get far – bright flashes of light hurled from Odon's wings deterred him and allowed Odon himself to get back into the air again.

"A bit over-enthusiastic, huh?" he shrieked. The sneering grin never left his face as he circled tauntingly over the arena.

"Odon!" snapped Sue, raising her voice to a volume that was much higher than was normal for her. "What did I just tell you?!"

"Hey, he needs to learn how to fight anyway!" Odon protested, soaring close to her but never landing. "Isn't this the best way to get a new hybrid to learn the basics?"

The Mizutsune-woman looked like she was on the verge of spitting fire – indeed, if she was able to, she probably would have. But rather, she tamed her temper and sighed, admitting under her breath that the insane Elite probably had somewhat of a point.

Sanguis twisted his head this way and that, the roaring sound of his own fury filling his ears. His eyes were darting every which way, furiously seeking out a target on which he could take out his anger. At first, he saw nothing – and then a grinning monster boy materialized out of thin air directly in front of him, the sun playing across his ludicrous purple robes and making them glitter.

He lunged, snarling, at the Purple Male for daring to show his fangs in such a taunting expression. But his potential victim's wings snapped open and propelled him backwards into the air. The smirk seemed to spread even wider, driving Sanguis into a near-mindless state of animalistic rage. Howling at the top of his lungs, Sanguis awkwardly charged forward on all fours in an attempt to get close and make the other hybrid _pay_.

But every time he came close, the Purple Male vanished into thin air and reappeared somewhere else, that _stupid goddamn grin_ getting wider and more toothy every time. The fifth time that happened (although he definitely wasn't in any mental state fit to count), Sanguis _screeched_ and launched his tongue from his mouth, which caught the Purple Male off guard and stabbed deep into his side. He screamed and ripped the offending appendage away, and red blotches stained his purple garment.

A slurred hiss of satisfaction made it past Sanguis' lips – only for a very wet and sticky something to collide with his forehead, making a loud *splat* when it made contact. The Purple Male's own tongue had shot out and smashed into Sanguis with incredible force, causing small winking lights to dance spastically in the Baruragaru's vision. On instinct, Sanguis' own tongue coiled around the Purple Male's before stabbing straight through its musculature.

Blood splattered across the sand, only heightening Sanguis' rage. He saw the Purple Male vanish, leaving telltale red stains behind him as his mouth bled, then reappear again to spread his wings and emit a cloud of violet fog into the air around him.

Sanguis backed away, hissing, putting a temporary leash on his rage so as not to go charging into the obscuring cloud. He smelled a potent venomous property in that fog, which wasn't something he wanted to inhale. He could infer that the Purple Male was using the toxic mist to provide a safe place to hide.

There was a blur of movement from off to the side, and he whipped around to see his enemy descending down on him with rapid beats of his wings. Reacting fast, Sanguis opened his mouth and internally squeezed his storage sacs. On either side of his neck, a ripple passed across the dark red membranes – and then the blood from his last meal was blasted into the Purple Male's face.

The cloaked hybrid squealed and fell out of the sky, frantically wiping his eyes in an effort to clear his vision. Grinning with satisfaction, Sanguis advanced, extending his tongue for the kill.

All of a sudden, Sue was in front of him. She waved her arm, and opalescent bubbles floated out from the sleeve of her kimono. To Sanguis' intense displeasure, the bubbles attached to him and saturated the ground with their soapy wetness. He hissed angrily, the unpleasant taste of the bubbles fueling his rage. But when he took a step forward, he slipped and collapsed to the ground in a writhing, slippery heap.

There was a soft *splat*, followed by the smell of meat. He looked up, fury rapidly dissipating, and saw Sera standing over him and withdrawing a bloodied hand. Now he looked down, to see a hunk of flesh in front of him. Completely forgetting his violent temper tantrum, his tongue zipped out and brought the snack into his mouth to be chewed and swallowed.

Seeing the Baruragaru-boy calm down so quickly, Sera spared him the barest ghost of a smile. Was this a good sign? Would she make a good caretaker, like Duruhos had said?

"I am most grateful for your help, Sera," Sue thanked her, bowing. "The Pond did not warn me that this young leviathan would be so much trouble."

"I'm only doing my best…" Sera accepted her thanks with a discomforted ducking of her head.

A sudden murmur rose from the hybrids that were sitting on the ledges around the arena. Several of the flying ones beat their wings and flew off, as if something had inexplicably changed their minds about being there. As it turned out, there was indeed something – or rather, someone.

"Worthless!" growled Spark the Rajang-man, stomping into the arena like he owned the place. "That boy's a Chameleos? He fought like a Kelbi! Such pathetic combat would never exist if I were in charge here. I'd train you all into real fighters, not the wimps –"

Odon landed feetfirst on the sand, sparks jumping from his glowing wings. "Oh go cry me a river, Monkey Boy! You'll never be in charge here, so just shut up and do as you're told!"

Spark scratched his bare chest, snarling. "Can't you see that that buffoon Duruhos is holding us all back? We're hiding within these ruins like Altaroth grubs, too scared to come out! I'm twice the leader that old man could ever be!"

"Do NOT speak ill of Duruhos!" Sue shouted, causing both Sera and Sanguis to jump. Neither of them had ever heard the Mizutsune-woman raise her voice to such a level. "Without him, we would not be united, wandering the wilds of the Great Continent and at the mercy of any human that comes along! He has shown us all the kindness in his heart by allowing us a place to live – scorn him, and you are not fit to live amongst us!"

Electricity crackled around Sparks' fist, and he pulled it back with a grunt. "Don't talk to me with such disrespect," he snarled, and threw a deadly punch at Sue.

Sanguis didn't know what came over him. All he could tell was that, suddenly, he didn't want the Hairy Man to hit Sue. Was it because he secretly didn't mind her, with her soft words and gentle personality? As weak as he had become, did Sue make him feel safe?

The end of his tongue was suddenly buried in Spark's arm.

The Rajang-man roared, and his mane of fur suddenly spread out and turned bright yellow. It was such an unexpected threat display that Sanguis instinctively retreated, getting down on all fours as if that would be sufficient to hide him.

"YOU SLIMY BASTARD!" Spark bellowed.

His meaty hand flashed downward, and then Sanguis' eyes were bulging from his sockets as he was lifted into the air by his neck, five muscular fingers constricting his windpipe and cutting off his air. Gagging, his tongue crawled out of his mouth of its own accord and twitched spastically. All he could see were angry red eyes and bright yellow fur all over the place – at least, before his vision started to blur and go dim…

Finally, after several agonizing seconds, the grip on his throat was released. Sanguis hit the ground hard, his ears full of Odon's insane shrieking and Sue's scolding shouts. He was dimly aware of his tail moving and his arms making futile, halfhearted attempts to right himself, but truthfully he was too dazed to do anything of the sort.

His brain decided to take a nap. Sanguis was in no position to argue with it.

Fist blazing with lightning, Spark smashed it into Odon's armored chest and sent the Astalos-man reeling. Free from the Elite's attacks for a moment, he took the time to glare down at Sanguis' unmoving form with disgust.

"Whoever's in charge of that thing should watch his tongue," he snarled. "Or I'll stomp his head into paste."

Red flashed across Sera's vision, and she felt another flash, one of fear so strong that she almost turned tail and ran out of the arena. No… she had to contain it. She had hidden her anger for all these years… it was only one of Spark's usual threats, nothing more than that.

Regardless of her internal struggle, her mouth moved on its own. Fueled by the very anger she sought so hard to hide, her voice came out hard as stone. "It's none of your business."

Spark's fur stood on end and quivered slightly, such was his intense Rajang rage. In a tone that was dangerously quiet, belying what was undoubtedly about to erupt inside of him, he warned, "I'd hold your tongue if I were you, _she-devil_. If you don't, I'll show you exactly how to make the world a better place – by getting rid of demons like you."

" _Enough_!" Sue all but shrieked, her fins flushing a vivid scarlet. "Spark, out. I forbid you from saying another –"

An electrified fist met her gut, throwing the Mizutsune-woman away to join her fellow Elite in the dirt.

"I say it's high time you step down and let a real leader take charge," the Rajang-man bit out, and spat in the dirt at the Elites' feet. "I've been waiting for a long time to get that old man Duruhos out of the way. This is as good an opportunity as any."

 _No… no!_ Sera begged, squeezing her eyes shut so that she wouldn't have to see the world through a haze of red. She folded her wings around herself and trembled, a terrified sob escaping her lips. She had to hold it in, no matter how much it demanded to be let out… she'd only make things worse by acting rashly…

But Spark… he _really_ did deserve it… maybe she could take out a little bit of her fury on him…

 _NO!_ her inner voice screamed. _I'm NOT a demon! I'm NOT what they say I am!_

A hand squeezed her wrist in a grip of iron, tearing her arm away from her face. Sera's dark, fear-stricken eyes were forced to meet Spark's bloodshot and furious ones.

"Perhaps I can make an example of you," he growled, flecks of saliva spattering her face.

He gave an almighty wrench, throwing her aside. Even as she stared up at him with frightened helplessness, a ball of orange-yellow plasma formed between his hands. The scowl on his face was illuminated by the forming projectile, giving it that added hint of menace.

 _He's actually going to kill me,_ she thought, half-shocked into numbness.

Sera was a girl that naturally wallowed in sadness and despair. On any other day, she would have accepted her fate without a complaint, embraced death with the knowledge that she couldn't be hated or discriminated against in the afterlife.

But today happened to be the breaking point. After five long years, she could no longer contain any more emotion. It was time to let it out.

All of it.

"TAKE THIS, CREATURE!" Spark roared, and let the deadly orb of concentrated lightning fly.

It slammed into Sera, enveloping her in a crackling, expanding aura of orange and yellow bolts of electricity. The forking thunderbolts knit together in an ever-growing sphere of destruction, illuminating the battlefield and chasing away the hybrids that still remained. The brilliance of the bolts clashed in a surprisingly beautiful way with the descending darkness, and –

Wait.

It was too early for night to be falling. _Far_ too early.

And why was Sera getting up?

The atmosphere continued to darken, but there were no clouds in the sky to obscure the sun. But even though the sun shone brightly, everything inexplicably started to descend into shadow, becoming ominous shades of black, grey, and other muted colors.

It was in this new world of darkness where Spark finally forgot his anger. His fur lost its yellow tinge and lay flat on his back once again, and apprehension filled his eyes in place of the animalistic rage.

Sera was getting to her feet, shadowy mist thinly obscuring her figure. With every movement, the dark aura partially dissolved into wisps that rose into the air before evaporating. Most of Sera's features were difficult to make out, but the ones that showed through had changed for the worse – a snarl of rage distorting her mouth, her wing claws and membranes glowing orange-red… and her eyes burning a hateful crimson, shining through the darkness like twin gateways to Hell.

" _ **I've had enough of you,**_ " the Unknown-girl hissed in a voice so distorted with her own pent-up fury that it was barely recognizable. " _ **You've been a nuisance for far too long. It's the end for you.**_ "

The natural reaction for a Rajang in this situation? What else other than more rage?

"How DARE you?!" he roared. "For whatever you're doing to Loc Lac, you witch, I swear I will make you pay for in BLOOD!"

At first, she said nothing. The darkness closed in, bringing with it a cold that seemed to sap the strength from his very bones.

" _ **This is for your existence,**_ " the shadowy version of Sera spat. " _ **DIE.**_ "

Over the city of Loc Lac, where the veil of midnight dropped down in the early morning, there were screams. And they wouldn't be stopping any time soon…

-.-.-.-.-.

 **So… Sera, huh?**

 **And Spark, what an ass. Two words – anger management.**

 **Things don't look good for Spark, but the chapter was full of entertaining hybrid-on-hybrid action (no, not that kind, you dirty-minded perverts). I thought it'd be fun to pit Sanguis against a Chameleos hybrid.**

 **Next chapter, we'll see how, exactly, the fight between Unknown and Rajang turned out…**

 **Send reviews!**


	15. Sera's Sadness

_**Chapter 15 – Sera's Sadness**_

-.-.-.-.-.

It was night, and the darkness had yet to fall.

Delicate feet stepped tentatively over the rubble, causing smaller pieces to tumble down the pile with soft clacking sounds. Studious eyes swept over the cemented pieces, examining the damage that had been done. Thank the Pond that the destruction hadn't spread any further. If the whole of Loc Lac had ended up like the arena did… Sue didn't want to even look at what she walked upon. She risked imagining what the city would be reduced to if it was ruined even further.

She averted her eyes and stared up at the dark sky. The moon, full and silvery, peeked out from the clouds that slowly drifted past. Its light fell on a vast ruin, formerly the Loc Lac arena and its surrounding buildings – but an unnatural darkness still lingered over the area, quenching some of the moonlight. The work of humans from centuries past, gone in less than a day. Seeing the moon cast its mournful light on such desolation brought tears to Sue's eyes. But she didn't let them fall.

 _Sera…_ she thought sadly, gazing out at the hills of shattered buildings that stretched for at least a kilometer in every direction.

There was a clattering of concrete, and Sue whipped around to see Odon climbing up to meet her. For once in his life, he was completely still, and his face serious.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I am fine," the Mizutsune-woman replied, bowing politely. "I was just reminding myself of how thankful we should be that the destruction was far less calamitous than it could have been."

Odon nodded. "I know," he muttered. "If I hadn't gotten lucky, I wouldn't have been able to take the Unknown-girl down. Is she… you know, still alive?"

"Yes," Sue affirmed. "I found an empty building and treated her wounds while she was still unconscious. I stayed with her all day, but not once has she awoken… I fear that it will take her time to recover from her…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

After a brief silence, Odon broke it. "There weren't many lives lost. Most of the population is safe. I'm glad Duruhos wasn't here to see what happened."

"What is to come of this?" she asked him.

"Don't know," he replied, bluntly. "Only this area was affected – I guess we all go back to our normal lives until Duruhos, Cindy, and Ray come back. Oh, and the Jhen Mohran-boy, too. We'll let them decide what to do next… if anything."

Bemused, Sue raised her eyebrows and looked up at the taller hybrid. "When did you become so wise, Odon?"

It didn't look like he had the heart to glare at her, but his reply certainly wasn't amused. "Probably when I was fighting with that Unknown. Fatalis on high, she fought like a rabid Zinogre. I've got scars in places I didn't even know I had. And the things she was screeching probably won't be leaving my head anytime soon."

"The fury of the Unknown is more terrible than even the stories claim," Sue whispered, shuddering.

There was no reply from the Astalos-man, so Sue turned back around to stare contemplatively at the desolation that lay in front of her. She heard the beating of his wings as he lifted off the ground, then saw him soar over her to wander deeper into the wasteland. The neon green of his wing membranes was a splash of color that stood out magnificently amongst the drab blacks and greys, allowing Sue to see him no matter how far he flew.

She saw him moving his feet in a peculiar manner, tearing away small blocks of debris with his talons like a Kut-Ku scratching at the sand. Even from such a distance, Sue could see that he did it with a strange confidence, as if he had a purpose for doing so – or if he had found something, buried underneath the rubble.

Quickly, Sue made her way across the ruins, opalescent bubbles floating after her wherever she moved. She stopped at her fellow Elite's side, peering intensely at what he was doing with his claws. Pebbles and dust flew into the air with each motion of his foot. Slowly, the debris was cleared away to reveal…

…the remains of a body, its flesh torn up and its skin thoroughly burned. The rubble around the dead hybrid was also blacker than the rest, as if it had been scorched by intense flames. The shaggy black hair and the horns made it clear as to the victim's identity.

"Spark," Sue murmured his name.

Odon was apparently comfortable enough to start acting like his old self again, because he cackled. "Well, there's finally some good news to report to Duruhos!"

The woman in pink was about to chastise him when a nearby scrabbling sound got her attention. It sounded like something was trying to climb its way through the piles of rubble that existed where the Loc Lac arena no longer did. She caught a glimpse of a slimy tail slithering behind one of the piles nearest the little pit in which Spark was buried. With the utmost caution, an unusual hybrid crawled out and exposed himself to the two Elites.

Blinking in consternation, Sue recognized the newcomer as the one Sera was looking after.

Boldly, the hybrid crawled closer and let his tongue out of his mouth with a soft hiss. Immediately, his head jerked to the spot where Spark's body lay. With a low gurgle, he coiled his tongue around Spark's neck and started to pull. Sue and Odon simply watched, simultaneously puzzled and awed, as the hybrid ever so slowly tugged Spark out from under the debris he had been buried in. Soon, he was free.

 _What was his name?_ Sue asked herself, trying to remember what Sera had called him. The Pond had not mentioned the hybrid's name at all.

Of course, a proper burial wasn't on the Baruragaru-boy's mind, since as soon as Spark had been unearthed, he stood up and stabbed the dead Rajang-man in the chest. After a pause, he jerked his head back a couple of times, causing the body to flop slightly. The scene gave Sue chills – although she knew that he was simply trying to feed himself like any monster would, it couldn't be denied that the hybrid was still a predator at heart that would gladly disturb a resting spirit if it meant filling his belly. And the way he did it was nothing short of disturbingly violent.

But apparently his efforts were for naught, as Sanguis soon retracted his tongue with a completely irritated look on his face. He turned around and glared at Sue, as if it was her fault he wasn't getting any sustenance.

She sighed. "Why aren't you with your caretaker?"

Sanguis continued to glare at her. All Sera did was lay unmoving on that nest-like thing that she had been placed on. He had ventured out into the city out of boredom and hunger, as he hadn't had anything to eat or drink since that morning.

"Come," Sue said quietly, motioning with a hand. "Let us go check on her. If she is not awake, I won't bother you if you decide to wander away again."

He huffed, irritably thinking to himself that _of course_ she wouldn't bother him, because he'd go where he wanted when he wanted. It wasn't as if she was Keyren or Sera, both of whom he felt at least a little bit obligated to follow.

It was Sue's turn to glare. The expression quickly reminded Sanguis of who was in charge here – indeed, the flower-headed woman seemed like a particularly powerful creature, despite being trapped in the body of a human as he was.

"Sssss…" he let out the hiss, somehow managing to express the entirety of his displeasure with that single, simple sound.

A curious glint came to Sue's eyes, and she reached out with her hand. Sanguis saw the fishhook-like claws coming toward him and spat out a hiss. The fins on his head and arms quivered, warning her to stay away.

She frowned. Turning around, she made her first steps toward the building where she had left Sera to rest – and after the fifth step, she turned around again and saw that, indeed, Sanguis was following.

 _He is… a curious monster,_ the woman noted.

-.-.-.-.-.

Pity, Sanguis mused, was an emotion that he felt he was going to get used to. It seemed as though every time he laid eyes on his caretaker, she found a new way to put the feeling inside of him.

As soon as Sue had stepped out of the way, he walked, on two legs, into the dim room and immediately saw the Unknown-girl on the nest, her hair and clothes dark against the white coverings. There simply wasn't another word in Sanguis' vocabulary to describe her. Pitiful.

Hesitantly, uncertainly, he picked his way across the floor and stopped beside the bed, peering down at her with glowing eyes. He didn't know why, but it was… fascinating, how still she was, yet not dead. For the first time since he had met her, her face wasn't troubled by guile or disgust or anger, or the comments from the other hybrids which he understood were meant to be offensive. He had never seen her face, pale as it was when framed by her black hair, look so… peaceful.

"Yes, I worry for her too," murmured Sue, joining Sanguis by the unconscious girl's side. The Baruragaru spared her a surprised glance, then decided she wasn't a threat and turned his attention back to Sera.

"I've never seen her look so peaceful," the Mizutsune-woman continued, basically saying Sanguis' thoughts out loud. "She's always felt the need to bottle up her fear, her sadness, her anger… all deep inside of her so that it would never come out. I've seen the changes in her over the five years I've known her… every year, more and more negativity festering inside, the pain in her eyes growing until it became nothing but exhaustion. Sera has been slowly killing herself over all this time… and now she's free from it."

As she spoke, Sanguis slowly turned his head to look at her. Her words were interesting, even if he didn't understand them in their entirety.

"She finally let it out," Sue continued with a heavy sigh. "She… finally let it all out. And Loc Lac suffered dearly for it."

At first, Sanguis didn't understand. Then, as he thought more about her statement, his eyes slowly opened wider and wider as the implication hit him. _Sera_ had leveled all of those buildings? _She_ had buried the Hairy Man under all that rock?

He looked back at the sleeping Unknown-girl. It seemed impossible.

An image of a burning red light stealing across her eyes surfaced in his mind, and suddenly, it no longer seemed as impossible as he initially thought.

 _Just what are you?_ Sanguis thought. He wanted to ask, but he couldn't speak.

It was at that moment when Sera faintly stirred. While the room had already been silent, it really became still as the two onlookers watched her return to consciousness.

Her eyes slid open, and she said nothing for a few moments, preferring to observe her surroundings before reacting. The dark orbs set in her almost-white face flicked one way and then the other, from Sanguis to Sue and back again.

"I should've known you'd be here," she whispered to the latter. Although her voice was no different from before, it still sounded calmer, as if all possible inner tension had been removed. "You're the only one that cares whether I live or die."

"Sssss…" Sanguis hissed, taking in her scent.

"And you," she murmured, turning her head ever so slightly to face her stony-faced charge. "I wasn't expecting to see you so soon…"

He tilted his head at her – not quite a reply, but he didn't do anything other than that.

Sue let out a soothing sound and used a single claw to brush the hair from her face. "We were very concerned about you," she said by way of answer. "You were so exhausted you slept for almost a full day."

It took a long time for Sera to reply. "I feel… at peace," she finally remarked. "There's no anger, no fear… But that could only mean…"

Silence once again reigned. Sue looked apologetic, but no words were spoken.

"I let it go…" Sera spoke into the silence, her tone heavy with such sheer despair that it caused pity to stab deep into both Sue's and Sanguis' hearts. "Five years' worth of pure rage… I let all of it out."

More silence, before the Unknown-girl broke it with a grim question. "How many?"

Somehow, even Sanguis knew that she was asking about whomever had perished in the devastation outside. As incredible as it was to him, _she_ believed the notion that she had flattened a good portion of the human city. That meant that she, indeed, had the power within her to do it.

The Baruragaru was only now learning of the true horror of the Unknown.

"Not many died," Sue assured her. "The worst that happened was that the arena was destroyed. The only lives lost were Spark and a few others."

Whereas Sanguis expected her to react at least a little when she heard the Hairy Man's name – at least a spark, if you will, of irritation – Sera didn't even blink. She truly was drained of all negativity.

"Serves him right," she deadpanned.

But that wasn't all, because she sat up, brushed her bangs away, and gave Sanguis a severe look. "You see?" she would've snapped if it weren't for the lack of emotion. "This is who I am. A wyvern that shouldn't exist, whose rage only builds until everything is devastated around her. A wyvern that's hated and feared wherever she goes, with nowhere and no-one to turn to other than herself. Who's… a danger to everything and everyone around her, simply… simply because she exists."

Sanguis only stared. If he could talk, he still wouldn't say anything. On the surface, he was as neutral and unreadable as ever, but internally, he was telling himself to _stop_ , just _stop_ with the infuriating feelings of pity and guilt for a strange human-monster mix that had already been proven capable of causing vast destruction. He couldn't _believe_ he needed to remind himself that he was a _Baruragaru_ , the sole bringer of death and fear where he had originally roamed, and that his heart had no room for weakness.

"Sssss…" he hissed with disgust at himself. He went to the shadiest corner of the room and curled up on the floor there to sulk.

No one spoke for a period of several minutes, which suited Sanguis fine. It was dark in here, and a little chilly, so he supposed it was a good place for a snooze. He crossed his arms in front of him and lay his head down, the orange glow of his eyes fading as his eyelids slipped into place. He could relax, knowing that his inner conflict would be resolved after a few hours' rest.

A soft voice broke the silence, speaking in a strange rhythm that made Sanguis look up and forget his efforts to fall asleep. He remembered that, back when he had first encountered the hybrids, the one called Melody had at one point spoken rhythmically as well, which was something she called a 'song'.

Now the song was coming from Sera, and it made his new, troubling emotions come back up to the surface. The dark-clad girl sang in a soft, dreary tone that could barely be heard…

" _When the sun went down,_

 _And the monsters there were sleeping,_

 _They would hear a sound._

 _A dark wyvern came creeping._

 _Her talons lashed and killed them,_

 _She'd eat them, leave them scared,_

 _But being feared was lonely, because…_

 _There's no-one there._ "

Still as the grave, Sanguis kept his sight trained on her. It was interesting, the way she so easily blended words together into something that carried a deeper meaning. At least, that was how Sanguis thought of it. The way she sang made something within him respond, filling him with an empty, uncomfortable feeling. But at the same time, it was… kind of nice.

Unaware of what he was going through, Sera ducked her head so that her face was hidden by the shadows, and continued.

" _When the storms would come,_

 _And the rain made prey go hide,_

 _She'd go hungry that night._

 _She would crouch and breathe a sigh._

 _There was no-one there to promise her_

 _That she wouldn't starve and despair,_

 _And she always was afraid because…_

 _There's no-one there._ "

She took a deep breath, and went on in a bit louder of a voice…

" _No one's there…_

 _No one there to count on, to comfort you._

 _No one's there…_

 _The Unknown aren't welcome,_

 _There's nowhere to run to._ "

Sue was watching her intently, stony-faced. Contrasting with the stillness of her expression were her eyes, which held a strange intensity. Even for one as observant as Sanguis, she was impossible to read. Sometimes, the flower-headed woman interested him, at other times she made him feel safe – but other times, such as now, she just unnerved him.

Thankfully, Sera took his mind off of the Mizutsune-woman as she began another verse…

" _When I transformed that time,_

 _And I was turned into a girl,_

 _I almost dared to hope_

 _That things would take a whirl._

 _But my reputation precedes me,_

 _The hatred follows me even here._

 _My rampage today, my powers too…_

 _There's no-one there._

 _No one's there…_

 _No one there to count on, to comfort you._

 _No one's there…_

 _The Unknown can't be loved,_

 _That's just so true._ "

The last mournful note hung in the air for a few moments, until Sera let it drop. She left behind another thick silence, but one that had a melancholy energy that weighed on Sanguis' shoulders like a physical pressure. He slumped back into his sleeping position, but kept his eyes on his caretaker.

What was with the hybrids and expressing themselves through these "songs"? He couldn't figure it out for the life of him – maybe it had something to do with being part human.

Wordlessly, Sue reached out with a small, delicate hand and gently took hold of Sera's. The contact caused the Unknown-girl to raise her head and peer through a short curtain of hair with eyes full of pain.

"You don't know how it feels," she rasped. The new, harsh sound caused Sanguis' fins to prick up alertly. "You don't know the life I've lived, shunned and hated by anything and everything that could think for itself."

"No I don't," agreed Sue, stroking her arm. "But I do know that you're not nearly as alone as you think you are."

When neither girl spoke after that, Sanguis put his head back in his arms and dozed off. In a situation such as this, it was preferable to be asleep than aware.

-.-.-.-.-.

 **For those of you who've seen the fourth Harry Potter film, I like to imagine the aftermath of Sera's attack to look a bit like the atmosphere of the desolation of the World Cup.**

 **Secondly, the song in this chapter is a depressing twist on "Always There" from the fifth "Land Before Time" movie. Not my best composition ever, to be completely honest… And to answer the question undoubtedly circling in all of your minds – no, I will not be getting all of my songs solely from that admittedly wonderful franchise.**

 **Send your reviews, please!**


	16. Revolutionary Revelation

**_Chapter 16 – Revolutionary Revelation_**

-.-.-.-.-.

There was a thunderstorm brewing near the ancient Tower. Located in the most remote region of the Great Frontier, few monsters could be found here other than the versatile Aptonoth herds that grazed in the fields and the cold-loving Giaprey packs that could stand the high altitudes of the Tower itself. Elder dragons could be sighted around it occasionally, but aside from them… there was nothing.

The brewing storm was nothing major. Its intensity – about average, as far as storms went. It was heading inland from the region on the western coast, known as the Highland. Its weather patterns were unpredictable and seemed to change at a moment's notice, so it was known for its fierce rains and lightning strikes. Wherever the storm went beyond the Highland, there would certainly be destruction, but not on a catastrophic level. Some small animals would be evicted from their homes or trapped under debris… but that was inevitable.

That was why the Remobras followed the storm.

Known across the continent as "Envoys to Disaster", these snake wyverns lived up to their name. In the Age of Hunters, they were infamous for appearing after, and sometimes during, elder dragon attacks to feast on whatever destruction was left behind. Because elder dragons were so rare and not easily found, they also hung around areas affected by natural cataclysms, looking for weak and injured prey to exploit. They were the vultures of the Great Continent, so to speak.

Remobras themselves had built up an instinct over millions of years to follow in the wake of disaster. Death and destruction was what they thrived on, literally. If one were to peer into a Remobra's mind, they would find an obsessive compulsion to flock around areas ravaged by thunderstorms, or earthquakes, or elder dragon attacks. It was like disasters held them in some kind of hypnosis.

It came as no surprise that there were already several of the winged snake wyverns circling under the base of the clouds, shrieking and calling to each other. One of them, though, flew lower than the rest, its flight patterns not as smooth. Instead of catching the wind and soaring with its fellows, this Remobra alternated between soaring and flapping erratically, like it kept changing its mind midflight.

The agitated Remobra snapped its fangs and shook its head, messing up its flight even further. Angry hisses tore from its mouth as it swerved back and forth, occasionally flapping its wings madly to rise away from the barren ground below.

It looked like it was fighting with itself. And in truth, it was. Over and over again, the same phrases repeated themselves in the Remobra's brain like a never-ending mantra;

 _Follow the storm the storm provides follow the storm the storm provides follow the storm the storm provides –_

 _NO!_ The word roared in the Remobra's head, interrupting its instinctual chant. _I AM NOT ONE OF THEM!_

Frustrated, the Remobra unleashed a horrible shriek that sounded like rage personified. It turned tail and flew as fast as it could toward the Highland, where it knew the safe Tower could be found.

It only wanted to put distance between itself and that awful thunderstorm.

It only wanted to be itself again.

-.-.-.-.-.

The room was dark, yet not completely so, as the sunlight streaming in through the open windows lit it up significantly. The interior was very well-decorated, with plenty of soft armchairs surrounding a circular rug in the center, a rug that had been carefully embroidered with a dragon-shaped symbol. At the back of the room, facing the exit, was a large desk with every square inch covered by books, papers, or small lamps. Potted plants and bookshelves took up the rest of the room, making it feel crowded in a comfortable kind of way.

A breeze wafted through and stirred the pages of any books left open, smelling strongly of the ocean. It was pleasant, but nevertheless did little to ease the tension weighing heavily on the room's occupants. On one side, humans and Wyverians – on the other, beings whom even a madman's worst nightmare couldn't have dreamed of.

For this was none other than the office/council room of the Guild-Master of Port Tanzia's Hunter's Guild. The short Wyverian sat atop a stack of books on his high-backed armchair – a seat that would seem more fitting in the quarters of a human crime boss rather than those of a benevolent reptilian being – which was the only way he could be clearly seen behind his desk. From the windows situated all around his office, which was located near the top of Port Tanzia's famous lighthouse, he could look down upon his beloved city whenever he wanted. Normally quite a carefree and jolly elder, his wrinkled face was further rumpled with a mix of confusion and suspicion, like he still hadn't quite convinced himself that he hadn't gone insane. The mug of ale on the arm of his armchair hadn't been touched yet, unusual behavior for this particular Guild-Master.

Beside his desk, in a slightly darker part of the room, was the imposing figure of the far north ruler known only as the Tundra King. The mysterious, white-bearded man was the ruler of a large town located in the far north of the Moga region – not as large as Port Tanzia, but important for trade. The Tundra King, who never gave his true name, and his 'kingdom' were close allies of Port Tanzia and (once upon a time) Loc Lac City, even though he was definitely intimidating and a little shady in comparison. When the Human-Monster War had been brought to an end, he had been the least happy about it, since a lot of his trade deals revolved around monsters and their various body parts.

Sitting in the other chairs, which were organized in a U-shape whose points touched the Guild-Master's desk, were the visitors from Mezeporta – namely, the Guild-Master, his granddaughter Caela, the Guild officials Dozer and Zald, and Phisto Docks. They had come here to discuss the disappearance and possible death of Lumis, a researcher that had come to Moga in order to investigate the origins of the hurricane that had struck Deserted Island five years ago. At least, that was until they had met the second group of visitors to Port Tanzia.

Duruhos and the human-monster hybrids.

The feeling of shock was quite mutual between the two groups. On the side of the humans and Wyverians, their worlds had just been turned upside down with the entry of these creatures that looked like humans with the features of various monsters destroying their otherwise normal appearances. None of them had even thought once that anything remotely like these beings could exist, and yet here they were, right in front of their disbelieving eyes. They were all asking themselves the same questions – _What are they? Where did they come from? How did they come into existence? Am I dreaming?_

On the hybrids' side, though, their thoughts were different. They had believed they would be granted an audience with the Guild-Master of Port Tanzia alone. But here they were confronted with not only the old Wyverian that had accepted Duruhos' request for a diplomatic visit, but also with his close ally, another Guild-Master, and researchers. None of them were prepared for this, and more than one were having second thoughts about the supposed wisdom of revealing themselves in the first place.

This was a meeting whose outcome would be dreadfully uncertain.

The first one who spoke was Duruhos. "I-I was under the impression that you, Guild-Master, would be the only one here," he managed to say coherently, despite his shock.

Tanzia's Guild-Master, the least surprised-looking one, shrugged and replied, "Aye, I do apologize fer havin' invited more than me fair share of company after ye requested privacy. Suppose my meetin' with them folks" – he gestured to those from Mezeporta – "made me ferget about yer request, Mr. Duruhos."

"P-Pardon me," Zald half-squeaked (she was having more difficulty overcoming the unexpected sight of the Rust Duramboros-man than the Guild-Master was), raising a hand. "But you two already know each other?"

"Well, no, not really," admitted the Tanzian Guild-Master, reaching out for a small scroll. He unrolled it and responded, "Aye, here it be. Mr. Duruhos signed this here message, requestin' that he an' his crew come here fer a parlay. I, ah, must've had more than me fair share of ale after receivin' it…"

The next to speak from the band from Mezeporta was Caela, who sat up straight and spoke as clearly as she was able. "Perhaps we should get on with the meeting as planned. I have no trouble keeping Mr… Duruhos and his companions a secret if the local Guild-Master is willing to trust him enough to schedule a private audience with him."

"You took the words right out of my mouth," her grandfather rasped. "Caela, that is an astute observation you just made. You will make a fine Guild-Master someday."

She smiled. Phisto snuck a look at her and turned pink.

"Let us start with the business of why our curiously-endowed friends have come here in the first place," the Tundra King spoke up.

The sentence seemed to cut through the warm atmosphere and leave a dead silence behind. Although reluctant to look at the man, Phisto did anyway and shuddered as discreetly as possible. He was no fan of the Tundra King – he distinctly remembered those arching eyebrows and sophisticated white robes on the very day that he and Catry had been banished from Loc Lac City. In fact, it had been the Tundra King who suggested banishment in the first place.

 _Not going to think about it,_ the Docks boy decided firmly. So, he focused his attention on something in the room that was infinitely more interesting – the hybrids. Now that he got a good look at them, and the shock had mostly worn off, he could appreciate how fascinating they were.

"Yes, me ally has a fine point," the Tanzian Guild-Master agreed. "Why are ye here, Mr. Duruhos?"

"Well…" the old hybrid thought aloud, scratching at one of his horns. "I merely wished to make first contact. I thought that if my hybrids and I were discovered by accident, the outcome may turn out to be less pleasant than preferable. So, I thought that by making first contact with the outside world…"

"I see," said the Mezeportan Guild-Master. "My apologies for interrupting you. But your decision is smart and clearly well thought-out. It is one that I probably would have made, were I in your… ah, shoes." He glanced at Duruhos' elephantine feet and frowned, "Sorry, wrong metaphor."

"But," asked Dozer, "if you don't mind, what do you mean by 'outside world'? Where do you come from… uh, sir?"

"That's not something we're willing to divulge," Cindy growled. "Not when there's every possibility that this meeting could end in another war."

"Cindy!" snapped Duruhos. "That was highly uncalled for. I apologize for my friend's, er, unique personality," he said with a bow to the Guild-Master. "She tends to be a 'glass half-empty' kind of person, you know."

"To answer your question," rumbled Ray, nodding to Dozer, "we currently live in the ruins of Loc Lac City."

Hearing the name of his old home made Phisto start paying _very_ close attention.

Unbeknownst to anyone, the Tundra King was as well.

"Mmm, aye," the Tanzian Guild-Master considered. "We stay away from that accursed place. It be a mystery, what happened to the old capital of Moga. It certainly be safe for ye and yer folk."

The Mezeportan Guild-Master interjected with a polite cough. "I must say," he commented, "for someone born a monster, Mr. Duruhos, you are clearly a being as intelligent and capable as any human being. Or Wyverian, for that matter. I am surprised to find myself completely overlooking your physical appearance, as if I was speaking to any ordinary person."

There were words of agreement from Caela, the other Guild-Master, and the researchers – even the Tundra King nodded along with them.

"If I may ask," Zald called for attention with a raise of her hand, "who are those you brought with you, Mr. Duruhos?"

The Rust Duramboros-man smiled. "Ah, I suppose it would be high time for formal introductions. Pardon my rudeness. I, as you know, am Duruhos, the leader of the hybrid community."

He gestured to his Elites and went on, "This is Cindy, the Glavenus-woman, and Ray, the Gammoth-man."

Phisto, as well as Zald and Dozer, found themselves quite awed. All of them had heard whispers, even _legends_ , about the quartet of monsters recently confirmed to exist in the Nameless region. While not elder dragons, they were so legendary that the old tales about them called them The Four Kings. And here were two of them in the flesh, the King of the North and King (or Queen) of the South.

"Then," Duruhos continued, "there is Atticus, the Seltas-boy, and his caretaker Kumono, the Nerscylla-boy."

Seeing a few confused faces staring at them, Kumono approached and raised his head so that his face could be seen under his hood. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Atticus' wings buzzed, but aside from that, he made no noise.

"You are a Nerscylla, he said?" inquired the Tundra King, sounding interested yet skeptical. "You seem quite human to me."

A wry smile appeared on Kumono's face. He extended his two spider legs, showing them off for a moment before folding them back up against his back. Then he opened his mouth wide, his lips peeling back grotesquely while a pair of dripping chelicerae slid out from the slits on the inside of each cheek. Caela turned pale, while Phisto tried to ignore his stomach churning.

"Now that we've cleared that up," Duruhos chuckled to the crowd of shocked faces in front of him, "there is one more I must introduce. This is Gulo, the Jhen Mohran hybrid. As you know, the Jhen Mohran is a powerful elder dragon, and Gulo uses his strength to keep watch over our city in case any threats approach."

"Pleasure to meet you!" Gulo enthused, straightening the muscle shirt that didn't quite cover up his large belly.

The Tanzian Guild-Master gave each of the hybrids a long, speculative look, appearing to be deep in thought about something. He didn't talk, though, until he had taken several large swigs from his ale and shifted so that he was more comfortable on his stack of books.

"Ye certainly do look like a strappin' bunch, ye do," he remarked, finally. "An' the li'l Seltas nipper ye have is cute, I'll give him that. But there be one thing that confuses me, Mr. Duruhos."

"And that would be?" Duruhos replied calmly. But inwardly, he was bracing himself for what he knew was coming next.

"How did" – the Tanzian Guild-Master started, then lost his nerve. "This be hard to put into words, ye see. The Human-Monster War went on fer many centuries, an' only five years have passed since it ended. An' now, before me, I be seein' ye hybrids, combinations of the very two sides that have been fightin' fiercely with each other up 'til now. How did that happen? Yer whole 'turnin' into humans' thing, that be."

Simultaneously, the hybrids glanced each other with definite discomfort. This was a subject that they had thought would come up eventually, but that didn't make them any more willing to openly discuss it. It was a touchy thing to talk about – even amongst themselves.

The Tanzian Guild-Master, and everyone else, waited patiently. Some, like Phisto and Caela, had their breaths held.

"The truth is…" Duruhos, at last, began to speak. He swallowed thickly and finished his sentence, "None of us are quite sure, ourselves. Our individual stories are all the same – going about our normal lives as monsters, then suddenly one day, waking up in a completely new body with completely new thoughts."

"Some of adjust more quickly than others," Kumono said, quietly. He lightly stroked Atticus' shoulder and went on, "While the physical change is quick, it takes us time to go from true monster to what we are now."

Fascinated, the Mezeportan Guild-Master nodded thoughtfully as he took that in. The rest did nothing but sit there in silence, trying to imagine what it would be like – suddenly waking up in a strange body and having your own mind slowly change over time.

 _Must be like being banished,_ Phisto thought, with a furtive glance at the Tundra King. _It happens so suddenly, and it takes a surprisingly long time to sink in…_

"But as far as what causes the transformation," Cindy spoke up in a low growl, "nobody knows. Some of us can remember feeling a faint trace of magic in the air when we wake up in our new forms, but there's no clue other than that."

"Magic, ye say?" asked the Tanzian Guild-Master, blinking.

Upon hearing the name of that forbidden force of nature, inaccessible to all but the mightiest of elder dragons, the silence that already pervaded the Guild-Master's office became heavier, bordering on death-like.

"It's our only clue as to what causes the transformations," Ray elaborated. "We think it's because of the magic still clinging to us, the force that is responsible for our very existence, that ordinary monsters are driven away."

"They're terrified of us," added Duruhos, grimly. "They want nothing to do with magic, and rightly so. All monsters know the consequences of interacting with it – we remember the Day of Destruction as well as you do."

A deathly chill settled upon the office, and coincidentally, a cloud passing by outside covered up the sun, darkening the room. Several people ducked their heads, trying to hide their discomforted reactions.

Gulo did as well, but it was to hide a small smile.

Then a cough came from Dozer. "Well, on that cheery note," he began in an effort to change the subject, "I know I don't speak for everyone when I say this, but I've seen enough to decide that your acquaintanceship is worth it."

"What do you mean?" Zald asked her fellow researcher.

But it was not him who answered – rather, Caela. The Wyverian told her, "I agree. I'm curious about these hybrids, and want to learn more. We _are_ monster researchers, after all. Perhaps we could be allies, with further negotiations of course."

"And maybe," her grandfather rasped, "you can one day leave your home in the ruins of Loc Lac, and come to Mezeporta."

Even Duruhos was shocked speechless by this notion. He had come with his aides, aiming to make peaceful contact with the Guild-Master of Port Tanzia – but it was now the Guild-Master of _Mezeporta_ that was trying to take that contact a step further! It was more than he had been hoping for, and from an entirely different direction, too.

It wasn't just him, either. Phisto was similarly stunned. The idea of intermingling with a newly-discovered sentient species – technically, a 'species' made up of many different ones – well, it just boggled his mind. Life on the Great Continent would never be the same. Were they truly ready to accept such… he hated to use the word, but _unnatural_ creatures into their society?

He raised his hand. "Um… if I could speak…"

"Aye, go ahead, nipper," the Tanzian Guild-Master permitted him, raising his mug of ale in recognition.

Phisto voiced his fears in a halting, uncertain tone. He said that the creation of these human-monster hybrids was a revelation that shook up his world, and it would shake up the worlds of many other people if knowledge of their existence were to ever get out. They shouldn't make any hasty decisions. They should instead think this through very carefully.

"Well said," croaked the Mezeportan Guild-Master. "This isn't something we can do without thought. Civilized life as we know it is at stake, especially if we don't plan this out properly."

Appearing distressed, Duruhos bowed slightly and said, "I do not wish to cause you so much trouble. My only intention was for this to be a friendly meeting."

"An' a friendly meeting it was!" agreed the Tanzian Guild-Master. "Now, it be gettin' late in the day, so whyn't I show ye hybrid-whatsits to some spare rooms – there be some in this here building, Mr. Duruhos, I already be aware of how ye value yer privacy. As fer the rest o' ye –"

"We shall stay with our airship," Caela interrupted with a diplomatic smile. "But we still wish to meet with you again, to talk about Lumis."

Ah yes, the missing researcher. The reason why they had come here in the first place was brought to light for the Mezeportan researchers. But they'd have to leave the investigation for later, especially now that they had a new issue to deal with – that of the hybrids.

Their view of the world was suddenly crumbling around them.

And none of them, sans Gulo, knew that soon, the world itself would soon follow.

-.-.-.-.-.

The first chance he got, the Sin of Gluttony ditched Duruhos and the rest and ran out into Port Tanzia. He was cautious of being discovered by humans, who would undoubtedly freak out at the sight of his Jhen Mohran tusks and back ridge. He stuck to back alleys as he headed toward the outskirts of the city, a single destination in mind.

Gulo knew that he'd have to get to Loc Lac City himself. Avari had been right – he shouldn't expect the Sin of Greed to appear every time he wanted him, especially since he had been doing so much flying around for the Seven as of late. Besides Luxi, he was the strongest flier in the group – heck, he was the _only_ flier in the group! But as much as Avari hated running so many errands at once, Gulo knew that the rest of them had their own parts to play eventually.

 _And now that the plan is truly underway,_ he thought, as idly as if he was thinking about the weather instead of a future doomsday, _all these years of waiting will be worth it. It'll be a lot of work – and Ace hates work – but we'll all do it, because this is our goal. Our dream. Our –_

He turned the corner and immediately froze in his tracks as he smelled something _delicious_ coming from another direction. He realized that he must be in an alley that was near one of Port Tanzia's markets. It hit him just then – he hadn't eaten in at least half an hour.

In only a moment, Gulo had swapped priorities. Food first, then make the journey to Loc Lac. He'd need to keep his energy up, after all.

 _It'll only take like a minute,_ he reasoned. _And even in the dictionary, 'snack' comes before 'travel'._

Several minutes later, Gulo was feeling quite proud of himself as he left the market, which had technically closed for the night, but it hadn't been any trouble at all to swipe a Jaggi leg from one of the empty stalls. After only a minor detour, he was back on track, with a drumstick the size of a human arm to keep him company. It hadn't slowed him down at all, and anyway, the Sin he was supposed to be meeting in a couple of nights wouldn't care if he came stuffing his face so long as he was on time – _Hell, they're probably expecting it,_ he realized with a hearty chuckle.

He was about to duck back into an alley when a flash of moonlight on white caught his eye. It was accompanied by a slight movement, prompting him to turn around and investigate. When he saw what it was, his eyebrows rose almost of their own accord – he had seen that robe before, not too long ago.

"Huh," he muttered. "What's the Tundra King doing out so late? Maybe he's up to no good…"

With another chuckle, he turned back around and continued on his way, not paying the shifty ruler of the north another thought.

-.-.-.-.-.

 **I'd like to eat a Jaggi leg.**

 **'** **The Four Kings', incidentally, are the titles belonging to the Elite Four in my head-canon. Each of the Elite Four are said to represent one of the points on the compass, and are also said to "rule" over each point.**

 **Also, a Remobra seems to be fighting its own instincts. Trust me, there's a point to this. I was planning on having a Remobra character later on in the story, but I didn't know how to really introduce that particular plotline until very recently, when I got the inspiration from "The Good Dinosaur". If you've seen that Pixar film, you'll know EXACTLY what I'm talking about.**

 **"** **The storm provides!"**

 **In summary, the separate stories of the hybrids and the researchers have finally collided – and now the plot can really get going. What'll happen now? Give me some reviews, and you'll start to find out beginning next chapter!**


	17. Kidnapping King

**_Chapter 17 – Kidnapping King_**

-.-.-.-.-.

It was nearly midnight when Phisto woke up that night, in his little cabin on the airship.

He sat up in his bed and yawned, groggily wondering where he was, and why Athena wasn't sleeping on her usual perch across from him. Then, slowly, it came back – he and some of the other researchers had flown to Port Tanzia to meet with the local Guild-Master, and his Ice Halk had been left far behind. She was probably in Catry Bones' care right now.

Phisto couldn't help but smile at the thought of his friend. The one who had been by his side all his life, since his monster-hunting days in Loc Lac, all through his wanderings across the continent, and now as a researcher in the Frontier.

But now, it was almost like Phisto's journey had come full circle. He was back in the Moga region, after being absent ever since the Guild-Master of Loc Lac and the visiting Tundra King had decided on banishment being a fitting punishment for the Volvidon incident.

It felt… weird, yet nostalgic. The fresh air of the Mogan coast was a far cry from the desert air he had grown up breathing, but there was still that faint similarity.

Why were they here again? Oh, right – Lumis, the researcher that had disappeared some time ago when he visited the Deserted Island to investigate the possible cause of the hurricane from five years ago. But why was _he_ – the lowly researcher Phisto Docks – here? That's what he had been trying to figure out for the past few days, ever since his report to the Guild-Master about the new bloodsucking monster in the Swamp. Now, it was like that had given him a strange favoritism in the eyes of the elderly Wyverian.

 _No use wondering about it now,_ he decided. _I'd best get some sleep while I can._

But no matter how hard he tried, sleep simply wouldn't come to him. Half an hour passed before he finally sat up and accepted the fact that he wasn't going back to sleep any time soon. Perhaps being back in the Moga region had made him restless.

"Fresh air," he mumbled, jumping out of bed and reaching for his armor. "I'll go for a walk or something… then I can get to sleep later."

Despite the Docks boy's drowsiness, he changed from his pajamas to his regular clothes reasonably quickly and slapped his Jaggi armor on top of that. He didn't take his Great Sword with him, for obvious reasons, instead leaving it in his cabin as he quietly shut the door behind him.

He had only taken a few steps down the corridor when another door opened.

"Phisto?" asked Caela, sleepily. "What are you doing up?"

Upon seeing the pink-haired Wyverian stepping out of her cabin, Phisto whipped around in shock, his face turning redder than a Hermitaur. She was wearing a white, sleeveless nightgown that looked lovely on her – but then again, Phisto thought she could make anything look lovely.

"C-Couldn't sleep," he stammered out, ducking his head a little. "I-I thought maybe a walk around town would help."

He plucked up the courage to look up at her and saw that she was beginning to smile. He thanked the gods that the corridor was so dark, otherwise his blush would have been visible.

"I couldn't sleep either," Caela confessed. "It's the air, isn't it? So different from that of the Frontier. It's so refreshing that I'm not tired at all."

Before he could stop himself, Phisto added, "The revelation that there are monsters out there turning into people doesn't help."

To his surprise, Caela actually giggled a little at that. It was such a pretty sound.

"Yes, I know what you mean," she told him when she was done laughing. "Wouldn't you agree that it's simply mind-boggling? But it's also so exciting."

Phisto nodded along, momentarily pleased that she shared his innermost thoughts. That was exactly what he felt about the hybrids, once he had gotten past the shock that they existed. Then the moment passed, and he was back to feeling flustered and trying not to let her know it.

"S-Sorry if I've kept you from your sleep," he awkwardly apologized. "I'll j-just be going now."

"You haven't kept me from anything," Caela denied. "In fact, might I accompany you for a while? I think a walk would do me good, too."

For a moment, Phisto could have sworn that his heart was in his mouth. He paused in surprise and came dangerously close to panicking – _She wants to go with me oh my gods what do I dooooooooo_ – before he somehow regained his composure enough for him to get his tongue to do what he wanted.

"Y-Yes – I-I mean, it's no trouble, I'd be happy to w-walk with you," he babbled.

 _Smooth,_ his brain criticized him.

The two of them stepped out of the airship and into Port Tanzia proper, and made their way around the deserted streets with no real destination in mind. The stars winked merrily down at them, as if they were happy to have company this late at night. The breeze coming off the land and toward the nearby sea was warm and moist, ensuring that even Caela was comfortable in her thin nightgown.

Occasionally, one of them would bring up a topic of conversation, and they'd chat quietly for a minute or two. But mostly, their walk was done in mutual silence. Phisto found himself at ease, disregarding the fact that he had a huge crush on the young woman next to him. It was so peaceful that at one point, he almost forgot with whom he was strolling.

At last, they took a break on a ledge overlooking the sea. They weren't nearly far enough from the nearest building to be considered on the outskirts, but it was very easy to forget that when all you could see in front of you was ocean and the occasional boat. The breeze was strong up on this ledge, which warmed every bit of exposed skin it touched.

"I can't remember the last time I truly relaxed like this," Caela murmured, not taking her eyes off the endless blue expanse in front of them.

"Neither can I," agreed Phisto. "It seems like everything has happened all at once for me these past few days."

The Wyverian turned her head to examine him while his gaze was still on the sea. He had taken his helmet off, allowing the wind to stir his blonde hair. The way he clutched the Jaggi-skin garment was something that Caela found oddly endearing. Even though he was still, just barely, a teenager, Caela also found herself noticing that he was kind of good-looking.

This boy was the one her grandfather had taken an interest in, she remembered. The Guild-Master was adamant that he was the one that had appeared in his vision several years prior – and although Caela had her doubts about this, she wondered just what was so important about the Docks boy that had caused the Guild-Master to foresee his arrival in Mezeporta.

She supposed that she'd have to wait and see.

By coincidence, Phisto turned to glance at her the moment she went back to staring at the ocean. One brief look at her was all it ever took to make him flush, but illuminated by the silver light of the moon, she was simply stunning. He always admired her soft pink hair, pointed ears, and gentle eyes. His gaze trailed down to her arm, where he couldn't help but notice how the moonlight made her skin gleam like porcelain. Was it as smooth as it seemed?

Phisto blushed harder and tried to find a part of her that he _didn't_ find appealing in some way. He failed miserably, and at last turned away from her entirely so that the heat in his cheeks had the chance to fade away.

"I should go," Caela suddenly broke the peaceful silence. "I think I'll be able to sleep now. But thank you for this, Phisto. I found our time together most enjoyable."

He started abruptly at the sound of her voice, then hastened to put together a respectable reply. "I-I thought it was nice, too. I'll be staying out a bit longer, i-if that's okay."

With a smile, Caela responded, "Don't stay out too long. You can find your way back to the airship on your own?"

He nodded.

"See you tomorrow, then," she said, and stood up.

As she did so, her hand brushed his, and he somehow froze and melted at the same time. It _was_ as smooth as it seemed…

Entranced, Phisto couldn't help but stare unwaveringly after Caela until she had disappeared. If Catry were here, he'd definitely have himself a good laugh at how love-struck Phisto was acting right now.

Minutes crawled by, and Phisto still hadn't budged from his sitting position on the ledge overlooking the calm sea. He sat there unmoving as his thoughts jumped from one thing to another and back again. Soon, though, he realized that the more he sat there thinking, the more tired he was becoming.

 _Definitely high time I made it back to the airship,_ Phisto told himself.

Letting out a huff as he rose onto his feet, the Docks boy stretched for a bit before heading back in the direction of the airship. The Guild-Master had docked it near the huge lighthouse, where only distinguished guests of the Tanzian Guild-Master were allowed.

The quickest way to the lighthouse from here was through the tavern, where during the Age of Hunters, all the hunters of Port Tanzia would gather and receive monster-slaying quests that would take them all over the Moga region – much like the tavern that Phisto once frequented with Catry back in his days as a hunter of Loc Lac. The similarity was sufficient to make him a little bit homesick.

However, something seemed off, enough for Phisto to surface from his memories and pay closer attention to what lay ahead. The path on which he walked led directly to the tavern – which was a fair distance away still – and he could hear faint noises coming from up ahead. Why would the tavern be occupied at this hour? Not to mention that there was something awfully distressing about the nature of the sounds.

Phisto eventually opted to continue forward – but _very carefully_.

An artificial archway marked the entrance to the tavern, complete with a welcoming sign dangling some twelve or so feet in the air. Within sight of it now, Phisto was close enough to see and hear what was going on, and it was _not_ good.

He crept closer, hiding himself directly behind the archway so that he was in the best possible position to eavesdrop. But the sight that greeted him when he peered into the open tavern was already making him regret his decision.

There were five of them. Five grown men in shining white Barioth armor with their weapons held high in defensive positions. Two more without weapons had their hands full with a long length of chain that extended to a height several feet above their heads. The reason for this unusual positioning was that the soldiers had an unusual prisoner – the Seltas-boy, Atticus.

 _What are they doing to him?_ Phisto inwardly gasped.

The tiny part of Phisto's mind that wasn't in complete shock from this development was reminding him of what he had learned the other day about hybrids – those who were still getting used to the transformation would revert back to their original monster selves. So the soldiers that were attempting to capture Atticus had apparently triggered his inner Seltas. The small boy was hissing and screaming continuously in a thin insect-like voice, buzzing around in circles in a futile attempt to break free of the chain that had been lashed around his armored middle.

It looked like Atticus had completely lost his mind… which was technically true.

"Get him on the ground!" one of the weaponless men yelled at his partner.

"I'm trying!" he snapped back. "This thing is… urg… stronger than he looks!"

Finally, after giving the chain a mighty yank, the two soldiers managed to slam Atticus into the ground. The Seltas-boy was stunned for only a moment, then immediately revved up his wings and attempted to break free again. Four soldiers immediately piled themselves up on top of him, two of them throwing away their weapons in order to help their comrades. But even with all that weight on top of him, Atticus still put up a fight, causing the pile to rock back and forth as the soldiers tried to keep him down.

"Hold him steady," came a cold and strangely familiar voice. "Get him on the boat, and no permanent injuries. I want him as fit to fight as possible."

That was when Phisto noticed the white-robed figure standing off to the side, partially hidden in shadow and well away from his men and the maddened Seltas-boy. It was the Tundra King, wearing an expression that was mostly neutral but with a hint of satisfaction.

 _What is he doing?_ Phisto thought, shocked anew. _If he wants the hybrid… Atticus… alive and well, then it can't be for anything good, can it? But what does he want him for?_

This man who ruled over most of the northernmost areas of Moga had a long history of shady dealings in monster-related materials and performing acts that most Hunter's Guilds would consider questionable at best. Back during the Human-Monster War, the Tundra King and his hunters had pretty much dominated the market in terms of scales, hides, and fangs that were wanted for weapons and armor. His business was important enough that he had been considered a close ally of the Loc Lac Hunter's Guild before the city was abandoned, and Phisto had seen him in person once or twice – the last time being the day of his and Catry's banishment.

So from all of this evidence, Phisto knew that the Tundra King was certainly up to no good.

There was a sudden commotion. When another soldier approached to tie more chains around Atticus' legs and arms, the Seltas-boy broke into a rejuvenated fit of violent struggles that actually toppled the pile of men on top of him, allowing him to break free. The men were quick to grab hold of the chains to stop him from fleeing – but fleeing, apparently, wasn't on Atticus' mind. He released a hissing shriek and dive-bombed the nearest soldier, who didn't get his Lance up in time to prevent the hybrid from slamming into him.

Phisto turned away just in time to miss the sight of Atticus' orange claw plunging into the man's forehead, but the *craaaaack* of fracturing bone was impossible to tune out.

"Restrain him!" the Tundra King ordered. "He's out of his mind with fear and rage."

His men put their backs into their next tug, successfully yanking Atticus off of their dead comrade. Atticus fought back with strength that should have been unnatural for something resembling a ten-year-old human boy, straining with all his might to resist the combined might of those who restrained him. He hissed and spat and screeched and swung his claws, putting up one heck of a fight, but little by little, the Tundra King's men pulled him away.

Heart hammering against his chest, Phisto couldn't do anything but stand there and watch in horror as the Seltas-boy was dragged to a dock on the other side of the tavern and aboard a sailboat. The last Phisto saw of him were his flailing claws, which tore huge gashes in the wooden deck before he finally vanished into the ship's cargo hold.

Still, Atticus' frenzied shrieks could be heard floating up from the open trapdoor.

The Tundra King's sigh of relief was audible even from the distance at which Phisto was hiding. "Good," he muttered. "The hybrid child will prove valuable. One casualty is a price I'm willing to pay for such a… spirited creature."

From the nearby cliff that cast its shadow over the eastern side of the tavern, there was a sudden scrabbling sound.

"Sir, there's someone –" a soldier tried to warn, but was stopped when a cloaked figure slammed into him from above, knocking him out.

It was the Nerscylla-boy from yesterday, so Phisto realized. Hadn't he mentioned that he was Atticus' caretaker? If that was true, then things were about to get messy.

"What are you doing?" Kumono hissed fiercely. His murderous glare was centered on the Tundra King, his fingers and spider legs twitched with barely-suppressed fury, and his hood was down to leave his enraged expression unobscured. Drenched in shadow as the cloaked hybrid was, he looked like a vengeful spirit straight out of Hell. The overall image was a stark contrast to the friendly, peaceful Kumono that had gone out of his way to make a good impression the other day.

To the white-robed man's credit, he didn't appear perturbed by the quivering, enraged hybrid. Instead, he said calmly, "Your friend will not be harmed. Now stay back and do not trifle with us, or I guarantee that you will regret it. I am not an enemy you wish to make."

Kumono _lost it_.

"YES YOU ARE!" he screeched, lunging forward in a blind rage. "NOW GIVE HIM BACK!"

On their king's command, three soldiers swung their weapons at Kumono. All of them were Switch Axes made from steel, and they glinted dangerously in the moonlight. But Kumono was quick – he slid away from one soldier's 'Swaxe' as it was sometimes called, then struck at the back of the man's exposed neck. The tips of his spider legs sunk into the flesh, and he gave an almighty heave that was sufficient to fling the fatally-wounded man over his head.

There was a crunching noise when the soldier hit a wooden bench in the tavern's upper dining area, and it didn't sound like it was the bench that had broken.

The two remaining soldiers lashed out with the deadly blades of their Swaxes, but Kumono moved back and to the side in an odd manner that resembled a scuttling arachnid. Then he pounced, crashing right into the nearest soldier. Landing on the man's chest, Kumono plunged his clawed fingers into the man's face and neck, tearing a series of gashes across his flesh. The soldier yelled in pain and grabbed his Swaxe, moving it upwards to strike the Nerscylla-boy in the face with the flat of its blade.

When the metal collided with Kumono's nose, he screamed and scuttled away, dark red blood splattered across his face and dripping from his hands. However, he shook away the pain remarkably fast and came back with a vengeance. With a noise that was so disgusting that it could not truly be described, a pair of chelicerae lurched out of his mouth and clamped over the injured soldier's neck.

Dark liquid splattered across the pavement. The man collapsed, succumbing to a combination of blood loss and Kumono's potent venom. With a sharp hiss, the Nerscylla-boy released his hold and prepared to finish his enemy off…

…and the gleaming edge of a Switch Axe sliced straight through one of his spider legs.

The scream of pain that followed was almost enough to shatter glass.

At a gesture from the Tundra King, chains were flung around Kumono even as he dropped to the ground and curled up like a dead spider. The severed limb landed beside him, still twitching spastically. He didn't put up any resistance at all as the remaining soldiers dragged him onto the dock just outside the tavern's exit. He, too, disappeared into the ship's cargo hold.

"Excellent work," remarked the Tundra King. "Two hybrids for the price of three guards… normally the losses would be much higher. I have a feeling the two of them will entertain _many_ people indeed…"

He stalked after his guards, calling out to whomever captained the vessel to get it ready for a trip back home.

But then, he stopped right as he was about to board the boat, and turned around to survey the seemingly empty tavern. His cold eyes flicked back and forth, not even sparing the bloodstained pavement or unmoving corpses of his men a single glance. Suspicion clouded his regal features. He could have sworn…

With a shrug, the Tundra King left.

Unseen behind the archway, Phisto let out the breath that he didn't even know he was holding. His entire body was shaking from what he had just witnessed, and his legs felt weak. It wasn't just the carnage that had been unleashed in the tavern, it was also what came afterward that disturbed him. Seeing Kumono dealt with so brutally had made him sick to his stomach, and the Tundra King's last glance around the area made him so terrified that he had been discovered spying on him that the feeling of nausea only got worse. Now that he was alone, all he could do was clutch at his stomach and take deep breaths until his insides settled down and his pulse returned to normal.

"I-I need to get out of here…" Phisto said to himself, the tremulous note in his voice only making it obvious that he hadn't entirely calmed down. "S-Someone needs to tell them what the Tundra King has done…"

He didn't want to imagine how the hostile Glavenus-woman would react to the news.

He took a step backwards, then another, mostly to make sure that he'd be able to walk to the lighthouse without any trouble. But on his third step, he bumped into something that felt _alive_.

It was all but confirmed when he felt an arm slide around his middle and tug him further into the thing behind him. Phisto was frozen even before the knife came to rest at his throat.

"Leaving so soon?" a sly female voice caressed his ear. It was so close that he swore he could feel her lips brush against him.

All at once, Phisto was forcefully turned around and slammed into the archway, allowing him to see his captor. When he did, his body moved all at once in an instinctive struggle to get away, only to freeze again when the knife was applied to his neck. His reaction was understandable, since the one trapping him against the wall was someone he had tried his best to avoid all his life. Back when he was banished, the silver lining had been a severe reduction in the chances he would see her again.

For this was the girl he had been most scared of running into back when he was a hunter of Loc Lac, the girl that was rumored to be so cruel that she had once forsaken the saying 'don't kill the messenger' and did just that when she received particularly bad news. The Tundra King's only daughter, Jaedal.

Her long, sleek black hair framed the paleness of her face and made it seem even paler. Crimson-colored eyes shone with a combination of curiosity and sadistic glee as she studied her prisoner from up close. The fabric of her form-fitting midnight blue dress rustled when she moved closer, pushing Phisto even harder against the wall. Her slender arm came up and pressed a delicate hand to his chest, which he could feel even through the folds of Jaggi skin he was adorned with. It was as cold and smooth as ice.

"Do I know you?" Jaedal asked contemplatively, although Phisto got the feeling that the question was rhetorical. The sly smirk and predatory look in her eyes didn't show signs of disappearing. "You look _very_ familiar. Perhaps we've met before?"

Somehow, Phisto's mouth still worked. "I-I-I don't know."

The smirk grew, and her eyes twinkled unpleasantly. "Oh, now I see," Jaedal purred. "You look like you could be from somewhere in Moga. The Jaggi armor means you must have been a hunter, and it looks several years old – meaning that you were part of the Guild in Loc Lac City, because Tanzia didn't _have_ a Guild until the city was abandoned."

There was no way the Docks boy would be able to muster the courage to deny that.

"I remember you," the evil princess stated. Her cold hand trailed up Phisto's chest to rest against his cheek, and he shivered. "The one that was banished alongside his friend from Loc Lac, the day my father and I last visited. You've grown since then."

Suddenly, Jaedal's face was far too close to Phisto's for comfort. His vision was filled with nothing but her ghastly expression. And was that her arm slithering across his shoulder so her hand could immerse its fingers in his hair? A bead of sweat slid down his forehead, followed by another when she pushed her knife more firmly against his throat.

"It's not nice to eavesdrop, you know," Jaedal continued, her surprisingly warm breath washing across his nose and mouth. "My father would probably have you killed if he knew…"

Phisto swore that his heart was about to fail him any second now.

"…but where's the fun in that?" she finished after a dramatic pause. "I think we could get some use out of a cute one like you."

That did _not_ help. He didn't speak, not only because he was frightened out of his wits but because their lips would probably make contact if he did.

Finally, Jaedal drew out of Phisto's personal bubble, her arm slithering back over his shoulder and down to its proper position at her side. She took the knife away, too, allowing Phisto some space to breathe and rub his neck anxiously. But he didn't get long to relax, as Jaedal's hand was now gripping his arm and tugging him forward.

"That's it," she crooned, making his spine prickle. "You just rest for now, cute boy. You need plenty of rest for what's coming tomorrow."

Then a fist collided with Phisto's face, and unconsciousness was swift to wrap him in its dark embrace.

His last thought before his mind went blank was – _No-one will get to know what happened._

-.-.-.-.-.

 **Guess who's playing the hell out of MH Generations? *does a happy jig***

 **So some romance subplots are starting and WHOA GOD THAT'S NOT GOOD. The Tundra King is kidnapping hybrids? And neither Kumono nor Atticus was enough to stop him?**

 **Hopefully you readers are a little bit more interested in Phisto's side of the story now that the sh*t's getting real, huh?**

 **Please send some reviews! I like hearing what you readers are thinking.**


	18. Darkening Days

**_Chapter 18 – Darkening Days_**

-.-.-.-.-.

For the city of Dundorma, the night couldn't have been any more peaceful. The sky was clear, as it usually was, allowing the stars to sparkle down from on high without obstruction. The wind whistled softly as it blew over the high walls surrounding the serene settlement, giving the night a calming, if slightly spooky, music.

Yes, it was an ordinary night in the city of Dundorma.

That is, until the ground began to shake. It wasn't as violent or destructive as a full-blown earthquake. Rather, each tremor was short and measured, a series of distant *throom* sounds that repeated at an easygoing pace. Puddles of water that lay on the ground after a recent sprinkling of rain began to ripple with each quake.

In a world where it was not uncommon to encounter monsters the size of a small building, anyone that heard the approaching sound could easily identify it as the sound of footsteps. But there was no monster to be seen anywhere in Dundorma – meaning that the coming threat was elsewhere, and if its footfalls caused tremors that could be felt from within the city walls, then it was _massive_.

The Guild soldiers stationed in and around the Elder Hall certainly seemed to think so. Inside the magnificent building, the clattering of armored feet on the pristine tiled floors could be heard up and down the corridors. The blue-and-red-clad soldiers spilled from various side corridors as they headed down the main hallway, which was the quickest and most direct route to the town's central plaza. From there, it was a short walk through the gates and into the Battlequarters, to which they were trained to head immediately at the slightest suspicion of an approaching threat.

Some of these Guild soldiers had been stationed inside the throne room, which was located at the very back of the Elder Hall (but who cares about the building's blueprints anyway). The sounds of their metal-sheathed feet on the floor woke the giant Wyverian mayor of Dundorma, whom had never been seen away from his throne in all his time of rule.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded of the leaving guards, his gruff voice carrying the wisdom of a thousand years.

"Tremors, Your Immenseness!" one soldier reported immediately. He turned ridiculously quick, his Lance suddenly held upright, his back held just as straight. "There may be a large monster approaching. We are heading to the Battlequarters as per standard protocol."

His Immenseness' head bobbed slightly. "Very well. Only remember, we are no longer at war with the monsters. You are not to attack unless you feel it is absolutely necessary."

As eternally devoted to the Elder Hall and its master as he had been trained to be, the soldier saluted. "Yes, Your Immenseness!" he obeyed, and rushed out of the hall.

The Battlequarters had deliberately been built very close to the Elder Hall. It was only the wise thing to do, since although the soldiers could usually take on attacking monsters by themselves, the Battlequarters was the only real defense the city had against elder dragons. With its high stone walls and powerful weapons, it had proven time and time again to be one of the most effective dragon-repelling facilities on the entire Great Continent. That was saying something, especially when the cities in the Frontier region had to put up with powerhouses such as Rukodioras and Harudomerugus, both of which could have probably eaten a Nameless region-native Teostra for breakfast.

Since the war was over, the Battlequarters hadn't seen much action in a while. However, His Immenseness had ordered that the area and its dragon-slaying weaponry be kept in good condition at all times. This may have seemed like a simple safety precaution to everyone else, but the giant Wyverian elder had a much darker reason for ordering it, one that he kept to himself. Ever since the war ended, he had been having the most disturbing dreams…

Within minutes, the Battlequarters was swarming with activity. Guards from all over Dundorma held their Lances aloft and stood ramrod-straight at their designated positions as they had done a thousand times before during their training. This time, however, it was no drill. This time, they might actually need to defend their beloved city.

 _Throom… throom…_

The low booming sounds of the unknown monster's footfalls kept coming, neither speeding up nor slowing down. They kept the same easygoing pace, a steady beat that was as ominous as it was simple. More than a few of the soldiers holding their weapons at the ready or manning the ballistae felt sweat beading on their foreheads and necks.

It took an agonizingly long time for the monster to show itself. The tension weighed tremendously heavy in the air, so thick that one could have cut it with a knife and put it in a sandwich. When the monster did arrive, the soldiers were actually trembling due to how stiffly they were holding their bodies.

No one could identify the beast when it first rounded the corner and lumbered into the Battlequarters. It was entirely cloaked by a dense black fog that obscured its physical features. Not even its movements were completely clear – all the soldiers could see that it was moving forward. The sharp stench of crude oil started to saturate the otherwise brisk night air. And the closer the unknown creature lumbered, the more apparent its size became. None of the soldiers present could ever recall seeing a monster quite this big.

It stopped when it had reached the middle of the Battlequarters. Beneath the dark fog it hid under, its head slowly swung one way and then the other, observing its surroundings. The guards didn't know what to do, and tightened the grips they had on their Lances and ballista mechanisms.

There was an incredibly slow and loud groaning noise as the Demolisher was lowered, its gaping barrel pointing directly at the mysterious invader. It raised its head high, neck twisted slightly so that it could look over its shoulder at the giant cannon.

But nothing happened. The Demolisher wouldn't be used – yet.

Another groan creaked across the silence that the activation of the Demolisher had left in its wake, organic and not mechanical. The monster was making that sound as it grew taller, its head rising higher and higher above the ground until it was even higher than the Battlequarters walls. The soldiers were flabbergasted – despite the walls having been built to rival even an Akantor in height, the dark beast still managed to clear them by at least twenty feet.

Slowly, the black fog cleared away from the monster, allowing the soldiers to get a clearer look at it. It was a black-blue color and covered in a slimy coat of oil that continuously dripped from its hide and onto the ground underneath it. Its back was a forest of metal spikes, and its muzzle could be best described as a giant axe with a mouth underneath. It was standing on its hind legs, using its thick tail for support while its forelimbs hung uselessly at its sides. Another, much larger, pair of arms sprouted from its sides and dug their talons into the soil.

Neither side did anything at first. The soldiers held their ground defiantly, and the monster just stood there, waiting.

Then, the monster let out a huff. With an immense groan, it lowered itself back onto all fours with a tremor that shook the Battlequarters. Almost casually, it raised one of its extra arms and plowed through the eastern wall, scattering bricks and the rubble of bricks everywhere. Using the same arm it had used to take down the wall, it reached inside and scooped out dozens upon dozens of large barrels.

Those barrels, the Guild soldiers all knew, were the city's gunpowder supply. That, plus the nearly overwhelming stench of oil and the memories of the stories told to them by their grandparents, left them with no doubt in their minds that this wasn't a new adversary – it was an old foe, up to its old tricks.

"Fire ballistae!" shouted the highest-ranking guard, denoted by how his Lance was gold rather than silver and how his uniform was purple-and-yellow rather than blue-and-red. "Lancers at the ready, and prepare the Demolisher!"

Immediately, the deafening sound of several ballistae being fired together tore through the air. Arrows as long as a person was tall whistled through the air and stuck to Gogmazios' skin before exploding in small bursts of smoke and flame. The elder dragon cringed and let out a sound that was half-roar and half-yelp, wood splinters and gunpowder falling from the sides of its mouth as it turned away from its feast.

Another round of ballista fire came all at once, this time striking Gogmazios' neck and shoulder regions. The stinging arrows and small explosions hurt enough to provoke a bellow of pain, the noise like the tolling of a bell. It reared up onto its hind legs, only to receive another volley of ballista arrows to the chest.

Louder than before, Gogmazios let out a groaning roar, throwing its head back far enough for the soldiers to see the glowing marks on its lower jaw.

Most of the Guild warriors had to clamp their hands over their ears in an attempt to block out the worst of the din, but the sheer volume made their heads pound fiercely. The lead soldier, though, had the foresight to have invested in built-in earplugs, which deadened the noise a little. While the others were cowering in their steely boots, he stood tall and gave his next order.

"Demolisher, fire!" he commanded.

Somehow, as Gogmazios slowly settled down, the man at the Demolisher's controls heard his superior way over on the opposite wall. His face set determinedly, he grabbed the sturdy pickaxe lying on its side near the activation button and wrapped his fingers around the handle as tightly as he could. Heaving the heavy tool over his head with a mighty (and certainly dramatic) yell, he struck the central button with all his strength.

There was a *clang* as the pickaxe made contact and a loud *clunk* as the button reacted. The ground seemed to shake as the giant super-weapon was activated, the shaking quickly growing in intensity until a gigantic blast of red-black Dragon-element energy was ejected from the barrel with a tremendously loud blast.

No-one heard the projectile burst apart to send its destructive energies spreading out over Gogmazios' body, because Gogmazios did a great job of drowning it out.

"DRRRAAAAAAAAYYYYYRR!" the great black monster tolled.

Its cry of pain was so great that it sounded like it was tearing its own throat apart. The sheer volume made the air around the Battlequarters vibrate. Even the lead soldier with the golden Lance couldn't help but duck his head and tremble as his eardrums felt like they were going to rupture at any second.

Its eyes burning bright red with pain and rage, Gogmazios recovered from the Demolisher's blast and spread its previously-hidden wings. The great, tattered sails fanned wide, splattering miniscule droplets of oil all over. Despite its immense bulk, Gogmazios lurched clumsily into the air until it was far above the soldiers' heads. As one, they craned their necks until they couldn't crane them any farther in an attempt to keep their sights on the beast. Its dripping black hide blended in well with the night sky, but the heavy chopping of its wings beating at the air couldn't be missed.

Then a yellow-red glow lit up the night, and a sharp hissing sound pierced the guards' ears.

Accompanied by the horrific, oppressive smell of burning oil, a jet of glowing liquid streamed from the Gogmazios' gaping jaws. The stuff was dark in color, but still radiated an intense orange light that gave it a strange contrast. It pooled thickly over the Battlequarters walls and floor, piling up and filling the area with an intense heat. Combined with the smell, the temperature increased to the point where breathing was barely possible.

The lead soldier began to order, "Take cov–"

DWOOOOOOOOOOM!

The molten oil exploded violently, leaving nothing behind but a red haze in the air around its blast radius. Anyone unfortunate enough to be caught within said radius was incinerated, blown to pieces, thrown off the walls to their deaths, or all of the above. The shockwave generated by the explosion was like a fierce gust of blistering wind.

But Gogmazios wasn't done. It was turning this way and that, its wild midair thrashes fueled by anger and pain. Oil still blasted from its maw, covering the Battlequarters in glowing puddles. The surviving guards all took cover behind anything they could find, right before the explosions started.

DWOOM! DWOOMDWOOM! DWOOM! DWOOMDWOOMDWOOM!

Piles of volatile liquid detonating one after the other made the Battlequarters rock back and forth like it was being shaken by an earthquake. Eyelids were squeezed shut and prayers were silently uttered amongst the chaos.

"DRAAAAAAYYYYRR!" roared the Gogmazios when it was finished. Its wings ceased to beat, leaving its entire body to plummet to the ground feet-first.

That was when the lead Guild soldier looked up at the dark sky and saw two shapes, blacker than the night. From the way they gradually got larger, he presumed that they were heading toward the Battlequarters. Attracted by the sounds and presence of the Gogmazios, the two shapes grew close enough for the Guild soldiers to see their hard carapaces and silky wings gleaming in the limited light.

A horrid scream came from the newly-arrived monsters. "CHAAAAAAAAHHH!"

For all to hear, a soldier shouted the creature's name as a warning. "Gore Magala!"

The plague-bringing dragons landed on the walls, scattering the surviving guards. Their eyeless heads swung from side to side, apparently scanning the area with whatever senses they had. Their cloak-like wings were draped over their bodies, fluttering in the wind and emitting small wisps of black mist.

Although he would never admit it, a cold chill went up the spine of the guard with the golden Lance and unique uniform. Gore Magalas had been native to the Nameless region for as far back as anyone could remember, but a rare and strange variety called Shagaru Magala had spawned at the Sanctuary a year after the Day of Destruction. Ever since, the Magala family had become associated with the disastrous incident.

 _Just as with Gogmazios,_ the lead soldier realized. He stole a glance at the much bigger monster, who was lumbering away with its back turned. _If Gogmazios appeared after the Day of Destruction, and Gore Magalas have followed it here today… what does this mean?_

Multiple glints of moonlight over polished steel flashed in the night as those survivors of Gogmazios' assault raised their Lances. With a united battle cry that could make all but the deadliest of monsters think twice, the Guild soldiers charged into the fray, ready to pierce the hides of the Gore Magalas.

But none got the chance. One Gore spread its wings and launched itself vertically into the air, knocking several guards off balance with a fierce gust of wind. The black monster swooped back down with claws reaching forward to grab. The second Gore knocked away its attackers with its tail and wingarms, then did precisely what its twin had done.

And then, incredibly, it was all over.

The Gogmazios was leaving, its tail the only thing visible as it slunk away in the direction it had come. The Gore Magalas flapped their wings silently while uttering the occasional growl or scream. Each monster carried with them two flailing Guild soldiers, one in their front claws and one in between their jaws. The lead Guild soldier and his remaining company could only let their weapons fall as they watched the monsters retreat with their captives, as suddenly as they had invaded.

 _Gogmazios must have come to steal gunpowder again,_ he deduced. _But the Gore Magalas… they've never been seen near here. And they took some of my men with them… what for?_

His face like stone, he turned to his subordinates and commanded, "Retrieve what remains of the gunpowder and make sure it's locked up tight. I'm going straight to His Immenseness to report this… disturbing news."

-.-.-.-.-.

Avari, Spirit of Greed, the most ambitious and dashing of the Seven Deadly Sins (no matter how many times Superbius claimed otherwise), had a problem.

A very big problem.

Immediately after talking with Gulo on the other spirit's way to Port Tanzia, Avari had to fly all the way to the Sky Corridor. It was a journey that took the entire rest of the day and almost the whole night, even in the form he had shifted to, that of a powerful Alatreon. By the time the towering obelisk loomed out of the fog on the horizon in the middle of the ocean, his wings were aching and he was half-asleep. Flying over half of the Great Continent, and then some, really did a number on you.

 _Just a bit further,_ the spirit thought in relief, forcing his wings to beat faster. _It's in sight, at least, just a bit further…_

He let his body start to relax just as he began to pass over the island on which the Sky Corridor was built. A second later…

WHAM!

He got a very rude wake-up call.

Avari had flown head-first into a giant invisible barrier. A white ripple spread out from where his body slammed into the force field, momentarily exposing the field's composition of shimmering blue energy. Then, when the ripple faded, the whole thing went back to being invisible again.

Slowly, Avari slid down the barrier, too stunned to move. Almost as if the universe was mocking him, there was a drawn-out squeak as he slipped downwards like a dead bird on a window.

Finally, he detached from the force field and fell the last twenty feet onto the one part of the island that he _was_ able to set foot on, which was a miserable little peninsula that was barely big enough for him to stand on in his Alatreon form. Groaning, the black dragon staggered to his feet and ducked his head so he could rub it with a talon.

It may have been part of the splitting headache he was just now developing, but Avari could have sworn he heard approaching wingbeats. Although doubtful, his suspicions were confirmed when he noticed a gleaming gold dragon flying towards him from the direction of the Sky Corridor. At the sight of the magnificent creature, he felt a stab of envy – no monster should be so extravagantly festooned except him. He'd make sure to find a way to color his own scales gold when the Sins had triumphed.

The elder dragon landed close by, but on the other side of the barrier. Now Avari could see, despite the motes of light that were still swimming in his vision, that it was not only covered in gold, but also had pure white crystals jutting from its head and wings.

"Are you alright?" the Garuba Daora asked, tilting his head to observe him. "I saw the barrier react and thought I should check it out. You flew right into it, didn't you?"

"Yes…" Avari reluctantly muttered.

Now he knew how Superbius felt when someone stabbed at _his_ pride.

Once he had managed to collect his scattered thoughts and stand up without getting dizzy, he said, "Thank you for your concern."

"Oh, it's no problem," replied the Garuba, waving a talon nonchalantly. "It's my job to keep watch over this island. You know, in case someone tries to steal the secrets that the Ancients left behind."

Avari mulled that over. It made sense. The White Fatalis didn't want a repeat of the Day of Destruction, the idiot, and had stationed guards around the island so that the Eye of Fatalis was safe. Well, safe- _er_.

"Can't see why you'd need to be here with this barrier doing phenomenally well," he muttered, baring his teeth in a grimace.

The Garuba Daora cocked its head. "Don't you know?" he asked. "I'm pretty sure all the greater elder dragons were informed when the White Fatalis cast his spell over this island. The only things it repels are magical beings."

This time, Avari froze.

Of course. _Of course_ it was designed to keep magic out, if the White Fatalis truly was the one who had installed it. Avari had half a mind to fly off and find the other Sins immediately. But he felt a bit too tired to initiate another twelve-hour flight right this minute, probably because he was still feeling the effects of flying full speed into a force field whose very existence revolved around the need to keep him and his comrades away from the Sky Corridor and the secrets it held.

Rather, he mused, this was a good opportunity to get some more information. Knowledge was power, after all, and power was Avari's favorite thing in the world.

"Is it just you here?" he asked the Garuba.

Completely unsuspecting, the native dragon casually answered, "No, there's another elder dragon who's supposed to be guarding this place too. But he's lazy and makes all the Egyurasu do it for him. There are some other monsters in the Sky Corridor itself, but they keep to themselves for the most part. So… in a way, I kind of am by myself here."

Nodding, Avari asked another question. "What happens if something non-magical comes here?"

"That's only happened once," the Garuba admitted. "A group of humans built this enormous sky-ship to reach this island. I destroyed it, though, and the wreckage landed on the island and stayed a while."

"Until you got rid of it?" guessed Avari. Despite himself, he was kind of curious about this 'sky-ship' and how the humans were able to travel all the way out here.

Only now did the Garuba Daora seem reluctant to go on. "I didn't get rid of it. Someone else managed to shut down the barrier and make off with it. Thank goodness that's all they took, and not anything from the tower."

However, Avari was no longer paying attention. The barrier could be shut down? This was a stroke of good news. Once he told the others about this, they'd only have to find the humans' stolen sky-ship and the barrier may no longer be a problem. Plus, there were only two elder dragons guarding the island…

He needed to get to Superbius and report this ASAP. Fat lot of good their plan would do if they couldn't even get the Eye! With this in mind, he spread his wings.

"You're leaving?" the Garuba Daora asked incredulously.

"I am certainly not thinking of camping out for the day!" Avari shot back, tapping his left front foot to indicate the tiny rock he was stuck on. "I'd like to get back to Superb– the _super-comfortable_ Sacred Land as quickly as I can."

Clearly dubious, the Garuba blinked at what he believed to be an ordinary Alatreon. There was no way he could know that the individual before him was actually an evil knock-off of the actual Alatreon, since both of them were magical. Still, though, he was worried.

"It's a long flight back to the mainland," the Garuba warned. "And the barrier has been known to leave unfortunate magic-users disoriented for days."

"I'll live," Avari told him, confidently. "Again, thank you for your concern. May the winds always be under your wings, fellow dragon."

The bewildered Garuba regained his composure and nodded, replying, "Well in that case, the same to you, stranger."

Soon, Avari had flown far enough away to lose sight of the Sky Corridor completely. Despite the aftereffects of hitting the barrier manifesting themselves as a faint nausea, the Spirit of Greed flew as fast as he could without making his muscles scream in protest.

 _That poor dragon,_ he chuckled to himself. _How shocked he will be when he realizes that he's helped us take another step toward accomplishing our goal!_

Awaken Gogmazios, check. Make sure Gulo did his part, check. Scout out the Sky Corridor, check. Avari had done all of these things and more, so there was no doubt that Superbius would be pleased.

-.-.-.-.-.

 **Ahahaha, the White Fatalis might be old, but he sure isn't stupid! Looks like the Seven Deadly Sins aren't going to be conquering the world any time soon – because first they have to figure out a way to bypass the barrier around the Sky Corridor!**

 **On a less humorous note, Gogmazios is confirmed to be back, and is accompanied by a couple of equally pleasant cohorts. Where could they be off to? And why was Gogmazios released in the first place?**

 **Send reviews, please! Next time, we'll be checking back with poor, unfortunate Phisto and Co. to see what kind of danger they're in.**


	19. Snowbound Slaves

**_Chapter 19 – Snowbound Slaves_**

-.-.-.-.-.

"Hey, are you awake?"

The voice came from far in the distance, and it had a soft echo that made it almost surreal, like it was speaking to Phisto from out of a half-remembered dream. It didn't help that the Docks boy had a blinder of a headache, making his return to consciousness all the more unwelcome.

Blearily, he forced his eyes open despite the film of gunk that sealed his eyelids together. Light streamed painfully through the opened slits, making him cringe and squirm uncomfortably.

"I-Is he getting up…?"

Vaguely, Phisto noticed that there were two people speaking. He was beginning to notice other things, too, like how his back was severely cramped and numb, and how the inside of his mouth tasted nasty. He tried to move some more, and felt his body respond, albeit slowly and groggily. A low, zombie-like moan emitted from between his sticky lips.

"He's waking up. It looks like he's been out for a while."

"Wh-Where are th-they taking us…?"

"I don't know, Attie. Right now, we should just be lucky we're still together and unharmed."

"B-But y-your leg…"

"It'll be fine. The pain's mostly gone away by now."

More light spilled through the newly-reopened slits in Phisto's eyes as he tried once more to wake up fully. This time, he was successful – the light rapidly dimmed and his vision cleared after several experimental blinks. Planting his hands on the floor beneath him, he forced himself into a sitting position and winced when a wave of dizziness swam through his head and worsened the headache.

A squeak and a sharp buzz sounded at the same time.

"Shh, Attie. It's just the human researcher… Histo? What was his name again?"

It was coming back to Phisto little by little. He recognized the voice as belonging to Kumono, the one that… hmm, he couldn't remember that yet. He lifted his head to stare vaguely at the Nerscylla-boy, hoping that a glimpse would jog his memory. It didn't, at least not immediately.

"Phisto," he rasped out, answering Kumono's question.

"Ah, thank you," he smiled gratefully. "I'm glad to see you awake, finally. But it isn't as if you missed much while you were asleep. We've been stuck in here for hours."

Only now did Phisto take the time to absorb his surroundings. To put it simply, he was in a cage. On one side there were bars that rose from the floor to meet with the ceiling about a foot above Phisto's head – that is, when he weakly climbed to his feet. He had his back to one of only two solid walls in the cage. There were the bars in front of him, of course, but more bars on the other side of the confined space. It seemed as though that this was one big cage, divided in two for the convenience of those who were trapped inside.

And indeed, the other half of the cage did have an occupant. She was a middle-aged woman dressed in a smooth material not unlike silk, which glittered iridescent blue in the limited light. A long, feathery shawl was draped over her shoulders, hiding everything above her knees. Her face was porcelain-white, and her hair was done up in two elegant tails that fell down her back. She stood perfectly still, the epitome of calm.

A sudden buzz sounded nearby, and Phisto turned to see Atticus the Seltas-boy self-consciously fluttering his wings. Almond-shaped eyes glistening strangely, the exoskeletal hybrid peered up at the teenaged human without blinking, rubbing his mantis claws together in what seemed to be a nervous habit.

"Where are we?" Phisto asked, somehow getting his still-dry tongue and throat to work.

"Kidnapped," answered Kumono. "That old human, the one they called the Tundra King… he got Attie while everyone was asleep, and me as well when I tried to save him. As for you… well, I don't know. You must have done something he couldn't tolerate."

Shivering, the Docks boy relived the moments leading up to his unconsciousness as they came trickling back to his memory. There had been that awful skirmish in Port Tanzia, with Atticus and Kumono killing a number of the Tundra King's soldiers in cold blood. Then Jaedal cornered him – gods, even the _thought_ of her was enough to spook him – and… nothing. It must have been her that knocked him out.

One detail suddenly stood out from the uncomfortable memories, and Phisto turned to look at Kumono. "Your leg?" he asked, suddenly concerned. "I thought they cut it off…"

In response, Kumono unfolded the spidery limb from his back and waved the stump to show that it was no longer bleeding. His expression wasn't one of worry at all, and actually appeared _reassuring_ if anything. Phisto didn't know why he was the one that needed reassuring when he still had all his limbs, but since Kumono wasn't in bad condition… he supposed it wasn't too important right now. Besides, couldn't arachnids regrow their legs? Or was that crustaceans he was thinking of?

"It's fine, Attie," the hooded hybrid spoke soothingly to his quivering counterpart.

"N-No y-you're not," Atticus replied. It was the first time Phisto had heard him speak – his words came out in a thin and reedy tone, which quavered constantly with repressed fear. "N-None of us a-are. W-We d-don't know what th-they're gonna do to us."

Phisto briefly turned his head to look at their silent neighbor, who hadn't moved at all. "Maybe she knows something we don't."

"Atticus and I tried," Kumono replied, shrugging. "She won't answer. She's either asleep or too absorbed in her own troubles. As we should be."

"On the contrary, I am actually listening very closely to you three," said the voice, making them jump.

When he looked at the mysterious woman again, Phisto leapt back and had to bite off a squeak of alarm. Her body hadn't moved, but her head was facing them all the same, like she had voluntarily twisted her own neck to speak with them and was apparently suffering no ill effects. A queasy feeling rose in Phisto's gut, which only intensified when he saw that her eyes were glowing bright crimson and staring straight through his body and into his soul.

"Are you a hybrid too, miss?" Kumono asked politely. He was more curious than afraid.

She finally turned around properly, and her head rotated back into its proper position as she did so. With her pupil-less, scarlet orbs, she stared at the three of them with intense scrutiny. All of them felt a chill climb up their spines.

"I am a Malfestio," she said. "Or at least, I was fairly sure I was, until I found my voice after many nights of confusion. I found my name as well, almost as if the trees were speaking it – Uzera."

So that explained her creepiness. Bird wyverns in general were not one of Phisto's favorite subjects, and he had heard that the enchanting Malfestio of the prehistoric forests was the worst of the bunch.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Uzera," Kumono greeted. "I am Kumono, a Nerscylla hybrid, and my charge here is Atticus. That is… Wisto?"

Once more, Phisto corrected him. He got an acknowledging, polite nod as thanks.

Uzera blinked slowly at them before speaking anew. "I have no experience with humans. I was captured soon after I wandered away from my home. Where they are taking us is just as much a mystery to me as it is to you."

"It's not good, wherever it is…" muttered Phisto.

His words reached the three hybrids, and they all turned to stare inquisitively at him. Even Atticus seemed to forget his nerves.

"You know something about these humans?" inquired Kumono.

"Only a little," he replied, somewhat sheepishly.

"A little is better than nothing at all," observed Uzera. "Why not tell us this 'little'?"

Hesitantly, Phisto divulged what he knew. "The leader of the men who captured us is called the Tundra King. He's the ruler of a small city to the north of Tanzia, and he's not… well, not all that pleasant. Back during the war, his hunters would kill monsters and sell off their parts, like scales and claws, to other cities. The Tundra King made a lot of money back then, but since the war is over, I guess he's had to rely on other things to keep his business going."

"Things like kidnapping?" Kumono asked, confused.

"Maybe," Phisto mused aloud. "He said something – it's coming back to me now – about you hybrids being valuable. But it's almost as if he knew about your kind for a while, longer than the Guild-Master."

No-one had anything to say to that. The hybrids were just as bewildered as he was, Kumono in particular – Duruhos sent out scouts constantly to every corner of the Great Continent in search of new hybrids, hoping to get hold of them before the humans discovered them. Had he been unsuccessful in one, disastrous case?

The next time a voice split the foreboding atmosphere around the dark cage, it didn't belong to any one of them.

" _Very_ good, cute boy," she cooed, melting out of the shadows to lean against the bars. "Maybe it was for the best that you were banished, darling. You know a lot more than my father would be comfortable with."

 _Jaedal. Run. Hide._

Unfortunately, there was nowhere Phisto could go, confined as he was, to escape the terrifying girl's predatory gaze.

"On the other hand, I happen to like clever people," his captor continued. "Aww, you look so pale. Afraid the scary princess is gonna eat you up?"

Her naturally lovely voice took on a taunting tone as she poked fun at Phisto's paling complexion. It didn't last long, however – soon she was back to the low, flirtatious one she had used to such great effect on him when they last met.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea," she elaborated, smiling a dangerous smile. "After all, you are quite a… _tasty_ -looking one."

Oh mother of Fatalis, she was actually checking him out. With the color in his cheeks making itself scarce, Phisto silently begged, _Kill me now kill me now kill me now kill me now_ …

For now, Jaedal's attention was on the sole human of the group, allowing the hybrids the luxury of staying back and watching their exchange from the sidelines. Kumono stood protectively in front of a shivering Atticus, while Uzera merely stared.

"Speechless, I see," Jaedal went back to teasing. She adopted a more suggestive pose against the cage bars, her hip jutting to the side and her finger pulling gently at the neckline of her dress. "I tend to have that effect on others. Either you're scared, or I have you mesmerized. Mind telling me which one it is, darling?" She drew out the term of endearment until the sound was almost sickening.

"S-Scared," Phisto managed to squeak. "M-Mostly."

It wasn't a lie. Jaedal utterly terrified him, but she _was_ quite enchanting.

She giggled. "Oh, cute boy, don't be. There's no need for me to harm you. I want you nice and safe in that cell until our boat reaches the city. You've been to the Tundra, right? Maybe I'll let you out so we can build a snowman together."

Her laughter grew from a refined giggle to a full-blown cackle. Underneath the gales, Atticus' whimpers of fear were heard as he tried even harder to conceal himself behind his caretaker.

When Jaedal settled down, still grinning at her own cruel joke, Phisto managed to ask a simple question. "Why?"

"You haven't already figured it out?" the princess smirked. "I might have to take back what I said about you being clever. Weren't you _just_ saying something about your friends" – she gestured to the hybrids – "being valuable to us?"

He nodded, but his look of terror was morphing into one of confusion.

"Let me put it to you this way," Jaedal purred. "We can't trade monster parts anymore, so we're settling for the next best thing."

Dark crimson orbs, glittering with the light of sadism, slid slyly in the direction of Kumono and Atticus.

"You're going to kill them," breathed Phisto.

"Not _yet_ we're not," she corrected him. "Because, you know, they'll be far more… entertaining alive. And so will you, cute boy."

A seductive wink accompanied the nickname, leaving Phisto with a disturbing implication of just _how_ entertaining she'd find him.

 _Keep calm_ , he willed himself. _Just get a grip, Docks._

"Now why don't you be good little prisoners and get some sleep?" Jaedal suggested, backing away from Phisto to address the rest of the group. "We'll be there in a few hours, and my father might want to put you to work immediately. It all depends on what the crowd's like today."

She slunk out of sight, pausing just long enough to direct another wink toward Phisto before she left. The Docks boy slumped against the back wall, relieved that she was gone.

"So they're going to let us live for now," remarked Uzera, cutting through the silence.

"I d-don't t-trust her," Atticus moaned, burying his face in Kumono's cloak. "W-We're gonna d-die."

His caretaker frowned. "But what would be the point of taking us alive if they're going to kill us anyway? I think the girl was telling the truth."

Phisto didn't want to place his trust in that evil temptress. He was familiar enough with her to know her ways. Jaedal was too crafty and fond of playing mind games with her prisoners to tell them the truth. She was lying to give them false hope. She was toying with them. Or at least that's what Phisto wanted to believe – but Kumono was making an awful lot of sense.

"I will be taking this opportunity to rest," Uzera announced. Her shawl rustled as she made her way to the back of her cell, eyes glowing in the darkness. "The girl was not lying about one thing – there will be no rest when we arrive at our destination."

She snapped her eyelids closed and said no more.

A sense of idle curiosity spurring him on, Phisto walked up to the bars that trapped them and peered outside. Several feet away was another cage of similar size to his own, but it was empty. When he concentrated, he realized he could hear the sound of the ocean coming from somewhere nearby, confirming that they were indeed on a boat – though as to where they were bound, he had no clue. But he had his suspicions.

Looking up, Phisto saw a small strip of blue between the roof of the cage and the roof of the empty one opposite him. He guessed that it was the middle of the day, or close to it. Patches of white indicated the presence of clouds, while a solitary wyvern soared above them, a distinctive dark spot amidst the yonder.

"What wyverns are found this far north?" Phisto wondered aloud, thinking back to his studies as a researcher. "We're almost certainly heading for the Tundra, after all. Um… Barioths, but that doesn't look much like one. Gigginoxes? No, that's not it either…"

His musings were interrupted by the presence of another. He turned to see Kumono beside him, eyes on the sky as well.

"Just seeing for myself what you were looking at," the former temnoceran explained himself with a smile. "Hmm… funny, I could swear that's a Rathian. They're not too fond of the cold, though, which I assume is where we're going. Somewhere cold."

Reasonably, Phisto replied, "He is the Tundra King." With another hard look at the wyvern many feet above, he added, "Huh, that is a Rathian. What would it be doing here?"

"She's even heading in the same direction as us," Kumono offered.

A shake of the head was all Phisto could muster. He spent the next few minutes unmoving, his neck craned as he watched the flying wyvern soar. His thoughts wandered some, but always came back to the question of why a Rathian would voluntarily travel in a direction that led it farther and farther away from a habitat that would be more suitable.

Eventually, he went to the back of the cell, deciding not to wonder about such trivial things. Raths were intelligent – whatever that one was doing, it could take care of itself. His concern was better put to use worrying about himself, stuck in this dire situation.

Trapped in a cage, being taken to the Tundra King's domain, and with the constant fear of being visited by Jaedal… Phisto shivered, as he could tell that this was only the beginning. Somewhere nearby, he could hear the ever-fearful Atticus shifting anxiously, and his heart went out to the Seltas-boy.

 _We need to stay strong,_ he thought. _Otherwise, there's no chance of surviving what our captors have in store for us at our journey's end._

-.-.-.-.-.

Back in Tanzia, the mood was toeing a weirdly-positioned line between grim and hysterical.

In an uncharacteristic show of complete panic, Caela had frantically woken everyone up and told them that Phisto, Kumono, and Atticus had been taken away. She rallied them as soon as they were awake – which didn't take long, considering the circumstances – and together they ran to the lighthouse to inform Duruhos and the Tanzian Guild-Master. There was no beating around the bush when they delivered the message. The three had been captured by none other than their very own ally, the Tundra King.

And none of them knew where Gulo the Jhen Mohran-boy had gone, either, further adding to the tension. Caela hadn't seen him among those captured. But Gulo could take care of himself, since he _was_ an elder dragon. For now, their first priority were those that were confirmed to be in evil clutches.

To absolutely no-one's surprise, Cindy was furious at this most recent development.

"MYAAAAAGRRR!" she roared, slamming a hand down on the table. "'Here's what we're going to do'?! _I'll_ tell you what we're going to do! We're chasing after them and _burning every last one to ashes_."

The one at which her rage was directed, the Mezeporta Guild-Master, was too scared to open his mouth in protest. Upon learning that two hybrids and one of his researchers had been kidnapped by the Tundra King, he had tried to come up with a plan of rescue on the spot, but Cindy was far too mad to listen to him.

"If we go in there with fire blazing, there's every chance that the very people we're trying to save will end up dead as well," Ray pointed out.

Cindy let out a long, frustrated growl, scraping her tailblade on the floor with such vigor that it was actually glowing with heat. "Then what?" she spat. "We knock on their door and ask nicely?"

Taking a large swig of his ale, the Tanzian Guild-Master wiped his mouth on his sleeve and told her, "Nay, matey, that ain't such a good plan either. I be a longtime acquaintance o' the Tundra King, ye know. I know his shifty ways – which fills me with more shame than I be carin' to admit, fer the record, now that we be in this situation."

With a huff, Cindy turned away and muttered something about wrinkled old Wyverians that didn't know sarcasm when they heard it.

"We need a plan," decided Zald. "I don't know what he wants with Phisto, but that's our colleague out there."

When Dozer opened his mouth to speak his mind, a random sideways glance showed him that Duruhos was gazing intensely at the floor, not giving any indication that he was even following the debate.

"Mr. Duruhos?" the researcher asked, tentatively.

The old Rust Duramboros-man spoke after a few moments. "If he took Kumono and Atticus, then the rest of my people might be in danger."

The others contemplated that, exchanging a few short murmurs of agreement amongst themselves.

"Aye to that," said the Tanzian Guild-Master. "'Specially since he knows where ye're hidin' yer crew. Ye said ye'd eked out a livin' in Loc Lac or somethin'?"

"We did say that," Duruhos despaired.

Hearing his leader's dejection, Ray placed a massive hand on his shoulder to show support. The silent giant wasn't too experienced in giving comfort, but this was his way of telling Duruhos that none of this was his fault.

"A message must be sent," growled Cindy. "Right away. If the Tundra King thinks he can gain something by kidnapping Atticus and Kumono, then he's likely to kidnap other hybrids too."

"There's a safe place…" murmured Duruhos. "I always planned for possible emergencies that would require an evacuation. We would use the sandskiffs to cross the Great Desert and into the Nameless region, then travel through the Everwood to reach the base of Heaven's Mount. It's an isolated place that would provide a temporary haven for us if we were ever discovered."

Zald has a look of wonderment on her face. "The Everwood, huh? That place hasn't been completely mapped out yet. Researchers haven't made much progress, last I checked."

The sound of a throat being cleared led everyone to stare expectantly at the Mezeportan Guild-Master. They respected his wisdom enough to immediately stop talking and listen to what he had to say.

"I sent my Halk out with a message for Dundorma just before we left Mezeporta," the elderly Wyverian rasped. "He should be back sometime today. When he arrives, we can send word to Loc Lac."

"Should we travel to Cathar once that's done?" asked Dozer. "I don't know about you, but it'd make me feel better if I saw Duruhos reunite with the rest of his folk."

Caela nodded along with him. "We could see and hear for ourselves what the Tundra King may be up to, if he indeed succeeds in capturing more hybrids."

Eyes glistening with tears, Duruhos regarded them with delighted surprise. "You would go out of your way for us?" he asked, touched.

Behind him, Cindy and Ray exchanged a look of intrigue. They had both thought they'd have to deal with this problem mostly on their own, since if it weren't for the one named Phisto, this wouldn't have concerned the humans and Wyverians at all. Such generosity wasn't something they expected.

The Mezeportan Guild-Master wasn't able to reply, as at that moment, there was a fluttering of leathery wings at the open window. Right on cue, Algor shouldered his way through the tight opening and landed with a single flap on the Guild-Master's chair. A small scroll dropped from Algor's beak right into his waiting lap.

"Ah, right on time," he coughed. "His Immenseness is always prompt when it comes to his return messages…"

Algor waited for a word of thanks, and when his master immediately buried his nose in the scroll, the Halk let out a huff. _Typical._

But the Guild-Master didn't hear. All of a sudden, his blood chilled in his veins as he read the single, ominous phrase written on the length of parchment.

 _It's back._

For the longest time, he didn't react. Caela and his researchers noticed his lack of a response, and immediately assumed the worst. In turn, Duruhos and his Elites noticed the apprehensive glances they exchanged, and knew that whatever the message said, it was nothing good.

The Guild-Master stood up and ordered, "We're leaving for Cathar _this instant_. Something bad has come up in Dundorma. I'll explain on the way, but there's no time in the present. Now, we must ready an airship and take flight for the Nameless."

He turned to Duruhos, who, like the rest of those who stood in the room, was bewildered at his sudden decision. "Mr. Duruhos," he added, "if you want to send a message to your people in the ruined city, you must do it now. There's no time to waste."

It took a long time, but finally, the old hybrid gathered his wits and nodded obediently.

-.-.-.-.-.

 **Mysteries abound as far as the Tundra King goes. He's taking hybrids to his domain, but why? How has he learned of their existence – pure chance, or is there something more sinister going on?**

 **New character introduced as well – Uzera the Malfestio, one of the best monsters in existence. I love fighting Malfestio in MH Gen, and it has such a wonderful design.**

 **In the next chapter, while the two Guild-Masters and Duruhos plan an emergency trip to Cathar, we're FINALLY going back to seeing Sanguis. Yes, I know. Your patience is now being rewarded.**

 **Reviews, please!**


	20. Nasty News

**_Chapter 20 – Nasty News_**

-.-.-.-.-.

Ever since the… incident with Spark, the others were treating Sera differently. Or so Sanguis assumed. He hadn't known them for long enough to be sure of how they usually treated her, but just based on the interactions he _had_ been there to witness, they were reacting differently to her presence.

When Sanguis was first put under Sera's care, she had been largely ignored, and then snapped at with the utmost hostility whenever she stuck her neck out. He got the feeling that it was because of what she was, an 'Unknown'. Whatever the reason, Sera's existence was a lonely and miserable one. He was her only companion, and he didn't mind that. She fed him, and taught him things, and respected his personal space. He didn't want to admit that he was warming up to her… but she _was_ tolerable.

Anyway, now Sera was just flat-out ignored. She would speak up, and no-one would reply. She would walk down an occupied street, and it would clear in seconds. She would enter the room, and it would be like a suffocating blanket being dropped on an otherwise cheery atmosphere. Even that annoying green girl that liked to sing, Melody, clammed up when Sera was there.

They weren't doing it for the same reason they previously snapped at her, Sanguis was sure. The spite just wasn't there anymore. No, it was more like they were uncomfortable, or even secretly afraid.

 _He_ sure as heck wasn't. Perish the thought. But the Baruragaru-boy's new, curious human mind liked to speculate, and he imagined that he would certainly be scared if he were in the position of one of them. It brought to him a strange clarity that let him understand the other hybrids a little better.

If he had been able to put this new emotion into words, and was willing to tell Sera about it, she would have called it 'empathy'.

"Yo, Swampy," a lazy voice called for his attention.

Sanguis lifted his head from where he had laid it on the floor and turned his eyes to Mike, the stinky fat one that Sera had said was originally a monster called a 'Congalala'. Right now, Mike was sitting on his couch with an empty bowl of food, scratching his beer-belly with his super-long claws.

"Mind passing me that bowl of mushrooms?" he asked, pointing with his tail at the indicated item.

Just then, Keyren spoke up. "Don't pay any attention to him, Swamp Boy. If Mike wants to stuff his face some more, he can get off his lazy ass and do it himself."

The Congalala-boy frowned. "But it's… so far…" he griped, waving his prehensile tail in an utterly pathetic attempt to reach the food that had caught his eye. "C'mon, Swampy, you're my only bro in here. Help a guy out, would you?"

"Sssss…" hissed Sanguis, not moving.

"Ugh, _fine_ ," Mike muttered. He flopped out of his seat with a single lurch, landing on his feet with shocking balance considering his huge stomach. "Guess I'll get it myself, like a guy with no friends…"

"Correction," Keyren snapped, clearly _not_ in the mood to put up with the former fanged beast's hijinks. "Like a monster capable of functioning on his own. What is _with_ you people? Sometimes I think Swamp Boy's the only one who understands me."

Sanguis perked up again, fins twitching. He never missed an opportunity to look at her. At this moment, she was leaning back in her chair, her tail spilling over the seat to rest its tip on the floor and her legs crossed casually in front of her. With her arms folded back and resting against the scaly shell covering her head, she was giving Sanguis a generous view of her exposed middle and nicely-rounded chest (unintentionally, but it didn't pay for a monster to be picky). The scowl on her face made her look fierce – strong and capable, in other words.

She shot a glance at him and chuckled. "Sometimes you're more like a baby Zinogre than a ruthless killer."

Was that a good or bad thing? Normally Sanguis would take that as a vile insult, but she was doing that thing where her lips lifted up to show her pristine teeth – smiling, was it called? So if she preferred him harmless, then it was okay?

 _Hybrids,_ he thought. _I'll never understand them._

"Don't get him mad," advised Gekula, who was visiting the shelter. His seemingly useless tail allowed him to dangle from the ceiling, which he found preferable to sitting down in one of the chairs or on the floor.

"No-one asked you, you overgrown phallus," Mike grunted through a mouthful of mushrooms.

Melody and Yuki immediately started giggling uncontrollably, while Dissidia stared at them blankly.

" _What?_ " asked the Khezu-boy, face crinkling into a sour expression.

Through a gale of chuckles, Keyren explained with great delight, "He's referring to how your species looks just like a giant d–"

 _Whizzzzzzz-THUNK._

A razor-sharp spine was suddenly sticking out of the arm of the Lagiacrus-girl's chair, inches from her own arm. On the other side of the room, Claire lowered her tail and blinked an ominous warning.

"No," she said simply.

"I'll kick your tail next time we have combat training, you kitten," Keyren muttered.

"We'll see," Claire replied.

Beside him, Sanguis heard Sera shifting in the shadowy corner she favored. He glanced at her, flicking his tongue out a couple of times.

"I tend not to draw attention to myself," she murmured to him. "Otherwise they start bothering me."

Sanguis nodded to show he understood. She brushed her bangs out of her eyes and held out a piece of leftover Kelbi meat from her lunch, which the Baruragaru-boy snatched up without a second thought.

All of a sudden, there was a rapid series of knocks on the door, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Silence stretched out over the room for several seconds before Yuki, deciding that no-one else was going to act, raised her voice to whomever was outside.

"Who is it?" she called.

The door opened to reveal the twitchy, impatiently-waiting figure of Odon the Astalos-man, to the surprise of everyone present. Immediately, they noticed that Odon looked _nervous_ , which was something that no-one had seen on his face.

Even Sanguis could sense that something was very wrong.

"Sue wants every hybrid at the old tavern," Odon told them, for once being serious. "We got a message from Duruhos, and it's really bad news. So get your tails in gear."

He turned around and spread his wings, taking off with a couple of clumsy flaps and heading toward the center of town.

One did not have to speak their thoughts for the others to know what they were thinking. Their confusion and worry were written all over their faces and expressed through each blink of their eyes. Keyren and Dissidia were frowning, clearly concerned but reserved enough to wait until they had all the facts before jumping to conclusions. In contrast, as the most outgoing of the group, Melody, Mike, and Yuki were the most visibly panicked. Claire didn't react at all, but her tail swished noticeably faster as if she was getting anxious. As for Gekula and Sera, the former's face was mostly hidden by his unruly mop of pale hair, and the latter had many years of experience when it came to hiding her emotions.

Bad news from Duruhos… Sanguis didn't know nearly enough about the lives of the hybrids or the world beyond their sanctuary to guess what it might be. He felt restless now, his fins vibrating and his tail flicking back and forth. His mind was aflame with intrigue and curiosity, but the negative energy given off by the other hybrids added a tinge of nervousness. The sensation was like a desire to know and a desire to _not_ know. It was perplexing, and it further discomforted him.

The hybrids began to file out of their shelter one at a time. Sanguis immediately got up to dog Keyren's footsteps, but remembered that he may as well be with his caretaker. He paused and glanced back to see if Sera was following. She wasn't, but she was slowly getting up out of her chair, so that was something. He figured he may as well stay by his caretaker's side from now on – for one, the longer he hung around her, the more food he would get.

For another, she seemed to react positively to him being there. Or she seemed less tense. At least, that was the impression Sanguis got.

"Come on, Sanguis," Sera murmured, sounding relatively unconcerned. "We'll go with them and see for ourselves what this is about…"

From where they were, it wasn't far from the tavern that Odon had told them to gather at. The tavern was a large, open area that once served as a meeting place for hunters of the Loc Lac Hunter's Guild. Now, the shops were left empty and the bulletin boards blank. The benches were falling apart and the airships had stopped working a long time ago. Its time had passed, and would likely never rise again to its former glory.

But that didn't stop Sue and Odon, and Duruhos when he was present, from using it as a meeting place whenever there was big news to share with their people. All of the hybrids that Duruhos' scouts had found and gathered over five years were now clustering close together within the tavern's boundaries, filling in every available space. There were around seventy hybrids – indeed, for such a big city, there were very few inhabitants. But because there was only limited space even for the rather small number of hybrids, they did as much as they could to fit everyone inside. Flying monsters perched on the roofs of empty stalls and on the airships still tethered to their docks, while climbers like Gekula made themselves comfortable on top of the walls that surrounded the place.

Sanguis hissed lowly and drew closer to Sera. There were far too many individuals crowded inside one place for his liking. He kept his fins pricked high in agitation, unable to get rid of the sensation of others moving all around him. Whenever he let his tongue out to taste the air, he slipped it back in as quickly as possible, almost overwhelmed by the many different scents that filled the air.

At one point, he felt something brush his tail in passing. In his state of agitation, that was more than enough to set him off, and he whirled around with a sharp hiss, with his tongue already stretching out in preparation to stab. The offending hybrid, a strange-looking male wearing all grey, regarded him with confusion despite Sanguis' obvious threat display. The lack of a reaction frustrated Sanguis further, and he almost attacked right then and there…

"Calm down," Sera ordered sternly, glaring. "Leave Nehlar alone."

Bristling, Sanguis glared back at the Unknown-girl, but ultimately stood down. The threatening look she pinned him with was a far cry from the perpetual halfhearted light that usually streamed from her eyes. The unexpected fury she now turned on him was unwelcome and unexpected enough to settle him down instantly.

"Sssss…" he slurred.

Satisfied, Sera turned back to the front. Sanguis did as well, once he was sure the other hybrid was on his way. Said hybrid – Nehlar – edged away and found his own place in the crowd.

The two Elites that remained in the city stood atop a semicircular wooden counter in the very center of the tavern – the same place where Guild officials used to assign quests to hunters, back in the day. From here, the words of Odon and Sue would carry to the ears of all who listened. It was likely that the humans who had designed the tavern had built it in such a way for that purpose exactly.

"We have received a message from Duruhos," Sue called out. The low murmurs from the crowd ceased at the sound of her voice. "As some of you may or may not know, he has gone to another part of this region with Ray and Cindy. This message was sent with the help of a Wyverian Guild-Master and his Halk."

The Mizutsune-woman gestured to her side, where a blackish-red wyvern stood. Sanguis jumped a little when he noticed it – it was just like the Hawk-Thing he had encountered in the Swamp, the one that accompanied the human that had wounded him. So it wasn't only that one monster, but more as well, that affiliated themselves with these humans.

"What Duruhos has to say is extremely urgent," continued Sue, unrolling a small piece of parchment for the others to see. "Two hybrids were captured by an evil human known as the Tundra King. They are being take to the north of the region as we speak."

Odon went on from there. "His orders are for us – _all_ of us – to flee Loc Lac and cross the desert to the Nameless region. There's a passageway through the southern mountains that'll lead us right to the Everwood, which we're going to travel through to reach our meeting spot with Duruhos."

The murmurs started up again, but not for long, as the Elites still had more to say.

"Everyone, start preparing immediately," Sue ordered. She spread her arms wide for emphasis, her flowery kimono fluttering in the breeze that had kicked up. "We'll board the sandships in the morning. For now, I need volunteers to help prepare the ships, as well as those with sailing experience to start hunting for tomorrow's breakfast. A lot of food will be needed."

As Sue and Odon started selecting hybrids from the crowd, the rest left the tavern and dispersed down the ruined streets. Sanguis caught a glimpse of Sera's short, dark hair getting farther away from him, and he immediately took off after her. He only slowed his pace once he was beside her again. He had no wish to get lost in this place, which he still found unfamiliar.

They met back with Keyren and the others at their shelter. Gekula was gone, presumably back to his own dwelling. No-one really felt like talking as they settled down for a night of sleep – even Melody was no longer her usual bouncy, irritating self, which suited Sanguis just fine. What didn't suit him was the uncertainty of this whole situation.

Frankly, he was glad they were leaving Loc Lac. The abandoned human city was unnatural and it discomforted him. But the circumstances under which they were leaving were worrisome – not that he wanted to confess that. If something was targeting these hybrids, then that left him at risk as well.

"Sssss…" he hissed to himself, wrinkling his nose in disgust at himself. Ever since he had woken up and found that he had been changed forever, nothing had been the same. His life had been one twist after another, and not even a week had passed so far.

He squeezed himself into the narrow gap between the seat of Sera's usual chair and the floor, and curled up into as much of a ball as he could in the limited space. It was cramped, but dark and cold, reminding him of the Swamp.

Minutes ticked by, and there was no sound except for the faint wind outside. Sanguis was beginning to think that the shelter's other inhabitants had already fallen asleep. That was not the case, however, as he suddenly heard a voice speak from somewhere beyond his dark confines.

"Loc Lac isn't so safe anymore, huh?" Mike commented, quietly. It sounded loud in the otherwise silent room, though.

"Not if a human that's been kidnapping others of our kind knows where to find us," replied Yuki.

Above him, Sanguis could hear Sera shifting in her seat, attempting to find a newer position in which she could get comfortable in and sleep.

"I've heard the Everwood is nice," Melody murmured somberly. "Maybe the Elites are planning on hiding us away in there for a while."

Sanguis felt something in his chest jump a little, as he always did, when Keyren was the one who answered. "No," the Lagiacrus-girl corrected her friend. "They said we're going to meet up with Duruhos somewhere around there. I think they're planning a rescue mission."

"But we know nothing about this evil human," Claire pointed out. Even the Lucent Nargacuga-girl sounded louder than usual.

"Duruhos probably does," Keyren shot back angrily. "Whoever it is that got kidnapped, we'll go in there and rescue them and then beat the hell out of the guy that did this."

As much as he wanted to agree with her, Sanguis couldn't really get behind the idea. It'd be safer to just not get involved. Focus on not ending up like whatever weaklings were foolish enough to get captured and hiding yourself away so that the same fate didn't befall you. That was what Sanguis would do, at least. Other hybrids seemed to care significantly more about the well-being of their fellows than he did. He was not so stupid.

… Although he'd probably make an exception for Keyren. Maybe.

"We'll know more once we meet up with Duruhos," Melody decided, to the group's general agreement. The Qurupeco-girl then yawned and finished sleepily, "Let's get some rest for now though."

At that moment, a low rumble came from somewhere outside the shelter, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. Sanguis instinctively raised his head at the recognizable sound, not remembering he was hiding under Sera's chair until he smacked painfully against it. It was sharp at first, then died down to a dull ache that squeezed his head from the inside.

Through the pain, Sanguis could still hear Dissidia's deep grunt. "Rain come," she grumbled, regarding the earlier roll of thunder. "Fall from sky. Make things wet."

"That's weird," muttered Mike, after letting out an excessively loud yawn. "I didn't think it rained here."

"It's rare, but not unheard of," explained Melody.

There was no response, and a peaceful quiet descended upon them as they gradually fell asleep. Feeling safe in the dark, Sanguis soon followed suit.

-.-.-.-.-.

The Lavasioth-boy, Nehlar, wondered if he was lost. He probably was, as without his caretaker, he was unable to find his own way back to their home.

He was very tall, more so than most hybrids, although not quite as big as Ray. He clad himself in very simple clothing – slate-grey pants and a matching jacket under which he wore a dark gold shirt. His shoes were basic Kelbi-skin footwear, nothing too out of the ordinary. Instead of hands, he had a pair of modified fins with five lobes each, arranged in a way that resembled a set of fingers with a thumb. His hair was short and as grey as his clothes, while his eyes were blank, white, and useless.

Nehlar, having been born a Lavasioth, was not one of the more fortunate hybrids. He was blind, without a sense of smell, almost mute, and lacked a sense of touch in his fins. While these deficiencies would make it seem to others that he was nearly helpless, Nehlar was actually fine – like all piscine wyverns, he possessed a lateral line and sense of electroreception that allowed him to detect other living things in a limited range around him.

And right now, Nehlar paused as he felt the familiar prickling buzz of his electroreception picking up a signal from nearby. Perhaps whoever was in the area could help him find his way back to his caretaker.

He followed the prickling sensation toward its source, dodging out of the way of buildings and the like every time he came close to running into something. He moved in a strange, alternating manner of careful walking and sudden sidesteps, closing in on his goal deceptively quickly until he was close enough to hear the voices of whom he was approaching – only then did he slow down, keeping to the shadows because he knew it wasn't a good idea to barge in and startle what may be a potentially dangerous hybrid.

"A _peaceful_ solution?" someone asked with obvious disgust.

"That's what Duruhos was going for, yeah," someone else answered, a voice that the eavesdropping Nehlar vaguely recognized but couldn't put his fin on where he had heard it before. "It seems to be working, too. The Guild-Master of Port Tanzia was pretty much in agreement."

"That is _not_ the plan!" the first voice hissed. A fist slammed down onto something wooden – probably a table. "If this continues, we'll never get the Eye!"

While Nehlar didn't know it, he had just walked into a particularly heated discussion between two extremely unpleasant beings – Luxi and Gulo, Spirits of Lust and Gluttony. Ace was also there, slumped over in his seat on a wooden bench with his head resting on the table in front of him, having already dozed off. The only female of the trio was sitting next to the Spirit of Sloth, one hand soothingly rubbing his bare back while her lovely yet ferocious eyes promised Gulo endless pain if he said anything else. Obviously, she wasn't taking this news of possible peace well at all.

The Mohran-boy had returned to Loc Lac in order to meet with the other two and inform them of what had gone down in Port Tanzia. It would have been good news if not for the fact that the Sins didn't _want_ peaceful relations between the humans and transformed monsters.

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" Gulo frowned, glaring back at her. "I couldn't exactly say 'Hey look, I'm one of the most powerful and evil beings in the world and I'm trying to destroy your entire race, so can you please be more cooperative?'" He stamped his foot impatiently, causing the earth to shake slightly underfoot.

"Ugh, you are so unhelpful," scoffed Luxi. "You do realize that _our entire plan_ depends on this?"

She pounded her fist on the table yet again, such was her frustration. Similar to how the earth reacted to Gulo's show of anger, an ominous rumble of thunder rolled across the sky when she expressed hers.

Ace suddenly stirred, his single eye blinking open drowsily. "I'm up, I'm up," he muttered, sitting up straight and brushing his tangled hair out of his face. "What'd I miss? Is the plan going smoothly? Did the humans declare war on the hybrids?"

The venom that Luxi's words previously carried was replaced with sugary sweetness. "Enjoy your nap, handsome?" she cooed, nuzzling him affectionately. Then her tone soured again, and she shot a filthy glare Gulo's way as she continued, "Unfortunately, the plan is going downhill, and this _idiot_ didn't do a thing to save it."

"Oh, that's too bad," Ace said placidly.

"You try pushing for a Rust Duramboros and an old Wyverian on friendly terms to go to war with that scary Glavenus-woman breathing down your neck!" Gulo protested.

"I think I will," the Amatsu-girl replied coolly. "Besides, the pleasure of a nice flight through the storm will help me forget that I currently want nothing more than to slice you open."

She stood up and smoothed down her skirt, then bent down to hug Ace from behind and pepper his cheek and neck with goodbye kisses. Once she received her own kiss in response, she strode elegantly away and raised her arms in preparation for flight, fin-like wings fluttering open to catch the breeze.

"Remember, we're all meeting with Superbius soon," Gulo reminded her. "So you should make your trip a quick one."

A slight turn of the head and a glare strong enough to kill an Arzuros was what he got from the Spirit of Lust in response. "I'd worry more about yourself if I were you," she told him. "I can't wait to see how the others take your _wonderful_ news."

"Avari's bound to have some," Ace offered. "I'm sure he'll hurry back when he learns something good about the Corridor."

"He'll hurry back anyway," Gulo shrugged. "As long as it means seeing Invi again."

The comment prompted Luxi to start laughing, bringing her arms back down to her sides and turning back around to face them in the process. Her evil, spine-tingling cackle made them both shiver, Gulo with discomfort and Ace with delight.

"That poor fool!" she shrieked with mirth. "He doesn't know what he's messing with! Invi would freeze him from the inside out without a second thought, and he still decides to risk his life with every comment he tries on her. All because he's in _loooooove_!"

She drew the word out in the most mocking, derogatory tone she could muster before dissolving into a fresh round of sadistic giggles. She genuinely enjoyed the possibility of Avari having his heart eventually broken, if not simply torn out of his chest, by the incredibly deadly girl he had chosen to pursue.

Gulo managed a nervous chuckle at the sight of his comrade entertaining herself so.

Ace just frowned to himself.

"Okay, I'm done," Luxi assured. Leftover giggles still emanated from her mouth, making it difficult for her to get the words out. "Acey, we'll catch up later. That sound good, handsome?"

"I'll be waiting," the Ceadeus-boy smiled softly, cheered greatly by his loved one's flirtatious words.

"Not for long you won't," she hinted, treating him to a sly wink and a brief meeting of her lips with his own.

When they separated, Luxi wasted no time in spreading her arms and taking to the air with the simplest application of her magic. A strong, violent breeze whipped through the area, whisking her beautiful form up past the tops of the buildings that surrounded them. In a flash of lightning from the dark clouds above, she was gone for good.

Seeing his companion staring wistfully after her, Gulo asked him in bewilderment, "How can you stand that woman?"

"It's not that hard," Ace replied. Stretching his arms out with a tired yawn, he then added, "Anyway, Loc Lac is going to be abandoned by this time tomorrow. How about we… we give them an idea of what they're up against?"

The Mohran-boy thought about that, then decided that it wasn't that bad of a suggestion. As long as they didn't go too over the top, no-one they were trying to stay hidden from – the White Fatalis came to mind – wouldn't suspect their presence.

Tomorrow, the hybrids would finally know the true nature of the beings that wanted them all gone.

When she got to Port Tanzia, Luxi was no longer in a bad mood.

Rather, it didn't take long for a bloodthirsty smirk to stretch across her face. She immediately turned tail and flew to where it was determined they would meet with Superbius, so ecstatic at her discovery that her evil laughter drowned out the thunder, lightning, and rain all around her.

As thanks for the immense favor he had done her and the rest, she was going to kill the Tundra King _personally_.

-.-.-.-.-.

 **You all missed Sanguis and the hybrid gang, right? Well, we get to see some shenanigans from them as they pass the time, before things start getting serious again.**

 **Nehlar's numerous deficiencies are based on information I found about the Lavasioth – they're nearly blind, unable to smell, and don't have very strong vocal chords. By the way, I fought my first Lavasioth recently, and it was pretty interesting.**

 **I've also decided to treat you to more of the Sins. I find Ace and Luxi's relationship interesting because while she's clearly not afraid to get intimate with him, he still worries that she doesn't truly appreciate him as a person or potential lover. In other words, he's in love with her, but her mocking words about Avari in this chapter makes him believe she doesn't feel the same way about him.**

 **…** **Poor guy.**

 **Anyway, please send reviews! The next chapter should be coming soon!**


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